The One Where They Are In A Relationship
by Oldreruns
Summary: Part 3 of an ongoing Mondler canon series. Now that Monica & Chandler are in a relationship, can it grow a solid foundation while they try to keep it a secret? Fills in gaps between S5 E6 & S5 E15. Heart/Humor. Thanks for taking the time to read. Feedback is always welcome.
1. Double Date Part 1

**Double Date Part 1**

**Thursday**

Chandler and Monica were enjoying the crisp, late October early morning air as they walked back to their apartment. Chandler's hands were full as he kept up with Monica's brisk pace. In one hand he had a shopping bag filled with groceries. A fresh loaf of French bread poking out the top. Over his shoulder he held tight to some dry cleaning wrapped in plastic. He was tired and cold.

Monica found the chill invigorating and had a little bounce in her step. One of her arms was hooked through Chandler's. Her hands clasped together and she would lean against him whenever they come to a stop. She could not seem to lose the excited smile that was plastered on her face.

She beamed with pride as she looked up at him. "See. Didn't I tell you this would be fun?"

"Sure. I can't believe I had no idea how much fun shopping at 6am could be? Or how cold."

Monica playfully tugged on his arm. "C'mon sweetie. There's so much you can do this early, and it guaranteed us some time alone, right?" she pulled herself up on her toes to reach him and placed a single, soft kiss on his cheek. "You have to at least admit that you liked the warm rolls."

"Warm rolls are nice." He looked down at her and smirked. "But I don't think anyone should get as excited as you did when you realized we got to the dry cleaners before it opened."

Monica shrugged her shoulders. "I'm glad you came. I feel like we have hardly had a minute alone with Ross being so needy lately. All of this Emily stuff. I feel bad saying this, but getting away from all that, well, it's nice for it to be just the two of us."

Chandler eyed Monica slyly. "I'm pretty sure you just brought me along to be a pack mule and carry all this stuff."

Monica gave him another tug and laughed as they turned the corner. They looked up and saw their building in view. Both of them sighing as they realized their morning alone was about to end.

Monica squeezed his arm tightly. "Well, no one is going to be up, we can at least walk into the building together."

"Sure." Chandler leaned down and kissed the top of Monica's head causing a smile to spread across her lips.

As they entered their building, Chandler gestured with his head at the door leading to the basement. "I can't believe you guys threw a bug bomb at Danny."

Monica stiffened up with embarrassment. "To be fair, Rachel fogged him. I just told her to do it. Anyway, when the lights go out, it can be kind of creepy down there."

"It isn't that bad. There's just old furniture and boxes of clothes down there."

"Well if you're so brave, then next time I need something from down there you can go get it."

"But it's dark and creepy down there."

Monica rolled her eyes and shook her head. "My hero."

"Anyway, I normally just bribe Joey with a sandwich and he goes down there for me."

Monica laughed and then stopped as they reached the stairs. "Okay, maybe I should go up first and then you follow. Just in case someone is up."

Chandler handed her the dry cleaning and the bag of groceries. "I really hate this. I wish we could have more time."

Monica walked up a few steps and turned around to face him. She leaned over and placed a slow kiss on his lips. "Maybe we can make more time. Would you want to try another weekend trip?"

"Are you sure you want to do that? We don't have great luck with weekends."

Monica's eyes sparkled as her mind began planning. "Oooo! Maybe we can rent a car and go upstate. I always wanted to go apple picking! We could go and have warm cider, and I can pick apples to use in pies for Thanksgiving, and we can try some farm fresh jams."

"Cider and jam? Just what every guy dreams about!" Chandler paused for a moment and looked off to the side. "There isn't by any chance naked apple picking, is there?"

"No." She shook her head and tried to suppress a smile. "How about this; we do my thing this time and then next time we do something you want to do. Plus, if we stay overnight, there could be naked bed and breakfasting."

"You had me at naked." Chandler placed a small peck on her lips. "Okay, this weekend we're supposed to help Ross move, so next weekend? I'll say I have to work; Joe will cover for me. What will you say?"

Monica narrowed her eyes, searching her mind for a plausible alibi. "Well, last time Rachel caught me on the phone with you, I told her you were Sad Linda from camp."

Chandler looked up reflectively. "I haven't been called Linda since junior high."

Monica shook her head in an attempt to brush off his joke. " I could say I'm going to visit her. We could go up early Saturday and come home Sunday. What do you think?"

"Sure. Let's do it." Chandler leaned in for one last kiss. They lingered by the stairs for a few more moments before Monica spun around and made her way upstairs. Chandler resigned himself to watching her leave, leaning over so he could catch one last glimpse of her backside as she turned to take the next flight of stairs. He waited a few minutes and then started his own ascent up the stairwell. He paused every time he reached a landing just to make sure she would already be back in her apartment by the time he reached their floor.

**Saturday**

Chandler and Monica found themselves trailing behind Phoebe and Joey as they made their way back to Ross' apartment. Phoebe was excited as she carried her guitar and Joey looked depressed and guilt ridden.

Chandler glanced over at Joey with a flash of concern on his face. He leaned over slightly so he could speak softly to Monica. "He really feels terrible. I hope we can smooth things over with Ross to make him feel better."

"It will be fine. We'll go up there, apologize, let him know we support him and everything will be okay. Trust me. I know Ross. A few kind words, a dinner invite, his friends all around him, and everything will be back to normal. If that doesn't work, we still have Phoebe's apology song."

"Phoebe's song? I thought we wanted Ross to forgive us."

Monica ignored his joke and grabbed his arm, compelling him to slow down. She seemed intent on making more space between the two of them and Joey and Phoebe. "Days like this are why I am looking forward to next weekend. Just to get untangled from all of this mess. Even if only for a day."

Chandler bumped her playfully with his shoulder. "I know. I'm glad we aren't telling anyone about us. I can't imagine trying to do this," He gestured between the two of them "as an entire group and be like…" he paused for a moment as he tried to choose his next words carefully. "Well, and be like Ross. I don't think he has had one relationship that we all weren't a part of somehow."

Monica glanced at Chandler and then continued focusing on their walk. "This wouldn't happen to us. Neither of us are Ross. Plus, if we were out in the open and having a fight, everyone would be on my side anyway."

Chandler laughed and gave her a quick, light pinch on her side. She giggled as he slowed down so she could walk a few paces ahead of him as they made their way through the crowded city sidewalk.

**Sunday**

It felt as if this was the first time in months where Monica found herself alone in her own apartment. She made sure to take advantage of her good fortune. She took a bath, put on some comfy clothes, and made some tea. She had just curled up on the couch under a blanket so she could read a book that she had been holding off on starting for a few weeks.

She was enjoying the solitude. It has been a busy weekend with Rachel dragging her into whatever it was that she was doing with Danny, and Ross bringing boxes over all day to the boy's apartment so he could move into his third apartment in about as many days. She could feel the tension of the pressure she put on herself when she tried to keep her brother and her best friend happy. It took all her willpower not to let it boil over and completely wreck her day.

Before she could crack open her book and lose herself in her copy of "Practical Intuition in Love", the door opened and Chandler poked his head in. He entered and had a pensive look on his face.

"Hey, is Rachel here?"

Monica put her book down on the coffee table and smiled. "No." She got up from the couch and walked over to him. She hugged him and placed a kiss on his neck. "I see someone got out of helping Ross move boxes today. Where have you been all day?"

"Oh, around." Chandler pulled back and looked down at her. "I've been thinking, with Ross moving in, I don't know if we can go away next weekend. I just can't think of how to explain to him that I will be gone overnight the same time you are and not have it look suspicious."

Monica bit her lower lip in frustration. "I know. It is such a nice thing you and Joey are doing for him, and I feel bad for saying this, but I'm really mad at him. I was looking forward to this trip. You were right. We don't have great luck with weekends."

A puckish grin started to form on Chandler's lips. "Well, maybe we don't have to miss out completely. Do you have a few minutes?"

Monica looked at him, and although she was confused, she nodded enthusiastically.

"Great. Grab your coat and come with me"

When they stepped out of her apartment, Chandler took Monica by the hand and led her to the stairway. She started to look down, assuming they were headed to the lobby, but he lifted her chin and pointed up. She wrinkled her brow, but then shrugged her shoulders and followed him until they reached to door to the roof.

Chandler turned around and faced her. " Okay, close your eyes."

Monica exhaled a laugh and shut both of her eyes. She smiled, but tried to play it off as if he was inconveniencing her. She reached for Chandler's hand, and he took it in his once more before opening the door and leading her out onto the roof. Once she heard the door shut behind her, he stopped them both in their tracks.

"Okay, you can open them."

Monica opened her eyes and started to spin slowly around in a circle. The first thing to catch her eye were the Christmas lights. There were five or six strings that looked to have been dragged across the roof creating this low glow of red and green. She continued to scan the area and saw a bowl overflowing with apples set on a small plastic table.

"Chandler, what is this?"

"Wait. That's not all."

He lifted up a small backpack and pulled out a thermos and two mugs. He puts them down on the table. "Warm cider and…" he dug his hand back into the bag and pulled out a compact disc. "The Best of the Jam. Sorry, I didn't have time to pick up any real jam."

Monica exhaled and smiled.

He looked at her and his face began to twist up as a wave of self -consciousness washed over him. "I know it isn't exactly a weekend away, and probably a little hokey and cheap looking, but…"

Before he could finish, Monica turned to kiss him and ran her hands behind his neck, squeezing him adoringly. "When did you do all this?"

Chandler looked down, his face now a mixture of pride and embarrassment. "Well, when everyone was helping Ross move his boxes, I went down to the storage room and found the lights and the table and chairs. Then I went to that grocery store you took me to last week and they showed me what apples were good for baking. I got the cider from Central Perk and…"

Monica cut him off again with another kiss. "Chandler. No one has ever done anything like this for me before."

"I just thought, you really wanted that weekend. I gave Joey some money and he took Ross out for dinner. I know we can't stay up here too long, but maybe for a little while we can block the door and kind of pretend." He looked down again and made circles with his foot.

"Chandler. This is really amazing. I can't believe you did all of this today." Monica pulled in close again and they shared several long, deep kisses. She took him by the hand and brought him over to the two chairs so they could sit down. She flashed him a devilish smile and held out her cup so he could pour her some cider.

"You know, once everyone goes to sleep, we are definitely going to be doing some of that naked bed and breakfasting back down in my room."

Chandler tried to subtly pump his fist in celebration but stopped when Monica glared at him playfully. She stood up from her seat and pushed him down so she could sit in his lap. He wrapped one arm around her waist and poured cider out with the other.

She looked out at the Manhattan skyline and smiled. "I guess, technically, we got to do my apple picking. Have you thought about what is your date night going to be?"

Chandler perked up and started to get excited. "I got these great center ice tickets for the Rangers next week! I was going to take Joey, but…"

Monica rolled her eyes. "Hockey? Wow. That really sounds romantic."

"That's what I was thinking."

Monica took a sip from her cider and then shook her head. "I was being sarcastic."


	2. Double Date Part 2

**Double Date – Part 2**

The crowd inside Madison Square Garden was animated with a fervor of cheers every time the puck reached the Boston side of the ice. The last minutes of the overtime period were rapidly counting down and had everyone on the edge of their seats as they hoped that the 3-3 tie was broken and the home team victorious. The players were skating fiercely with reckless abandon, trying to beat the clock as they fight to take one last desperate shot on the net. The chill and dampness of the arena gave way to the heat of the frenzied fans. Everyone in the entire building was enraptured in the contest. Everyone except for one man. Chandler Bing. Chandler did not really know what was transpiring down on the ice. While everyone else was up on their feet, he remained seated.

Throughout his entire life, Chandler had never really been a big sports fan. He would go to a game with Joey or Ross if the opportunity presented itself, but he never really paid attention to what was happening on the field. He would mostly mimic his friends when they cheered or groaned. He did enjoy leering at the cheerleaders, if there were any around, but he couldn't tell you the name of a single player involved in the game he was attending.

Playing sports never came easy to Chandler. He was an only child who did not have a lot of friends growing up, and as a result, he never built a foundation of athletic experience typical to men his age. He knew enough to make a passable effort when he would be asked to take part in a basketball, softball or even a football game with his friends or coworkers. He did join the swim team in high school, and he took to tennis and ping pong fairly easily, but overall athletics were never a natural fit for him. He would play and watch sports simply because that is what boys did, and ever since his father's sexuality became public when he was a teenager, he always made sure to do what typical boys did. Chandler really only saw playing and attending sporting events as a way to impress women. The jock always got the girl, at least that is what his experience told him. Unfortunately for Chandler, he was never a jock, so he never got the girl.

Monica Geller was the opposite. She played field hockey in high school and enthusiastically took part in the annual Geller family Thanksgiving touch football game, at least up until the year she broke Ross's nose. Later in her teen years, after her weight loss, she found that she excelled at long distance running, tennis and racquetball. She competed fiercely and could be described as a sore winner or sore loser, depending on the outcome. Over the years, whenever the chance to play a game with a clearly defined victor would arise, Monica would jump at the chance to join. It didn't matter what it was, she played with passion, and she played to win.

Monica didn't go to many live sporting events; she never took well to the idea of being a spectator on the sidelines. She was not thrilled with the idea of attending a hockey game when Chandler mentioned it during their impromptu, mock apple picking date. But fair was fair, and she did tell him that their second date night could be something he wanted to do. She simply could not refuse him. Although, as they spent more time together, she has been finding it harder to refuse him anything, especially given the gesture from Chandler to salvage their wrecked weekend plans. She never would have expected something like that from him before they began dating. She always knew he was a thoughtful friend, but she had no idea how sweet and romantic he could be as a boyfriend.

Despite all her reservations about how much fun going to a hockey game would actually be, here she was, up on her feet, fully engrossed in the action and itching to get involved. As the game played out, she rooted, screamed, heckled, and, on several occasions, demanded the coach put her in because she would "Skate circles around those losers you got playing for you!". Chandler got tickets so close to the bench he could swear some of the players actually heard her each time.

The clock ticked down and with less than thirty seconds to go, the crowd became more intense, completely fixated with the action on the ice. Even amidst all this excitement, Chandler could only watch Monica. He marveled at how turned on he was getting, even as he was experiencing the full Monica Geller sporting event treatment. Monica's competitive nature usually turned Chandler's stomach. Someone who avoided conflict forced to be with someone who relished competition was not a great mix. Or so he thought, but sitting there tonight, watching her, experiencing her fiery disposition now, after they had become intimate and started having sex, something in his mind clicked. Her overexuberance, her passion, her intoxicating self-confidence in her own physical abilities. It was all a reminder of how she was in bed, especially when they would be at their most frenetic. The yelling, the screaming, even the moans all took him back to those wonderful moments where they would be at their most heightened pace. When she would narrow her eyes and seethe at a bad play down on the ice, it looked just like her dangerous, smoldering, animalistic sexuality. A look he had seen before, when it felt like she was stalking him as they surrendered to their most primal passions. He realized, part of why she enjoyed sex and was so good at it must be because it presented itself as another physical activity where she could prove her prowess as she tried to outdo him and her own past performances, leaving them both physically exhausted by the end.

Chandler was also watching her because he found her to be absolutely gorgeous. She was only wearing a light cardigan sweater over a long-sleeved black t-shirt and jeans. Her hair in pigtails. But to him she was perfection, and all he could was stare at her and smile as the game played out. The final buzzer sounded and Monica threw her hands up in frustration.

"A tie! That's no good! You guys stink!" She looked down at Chandler who was still smiling at her. "I can't believe they don't let people in the stands suit up and play. I'd be so good at hockey! Better than those clowns!"

Chandler laughed, got up and grabbed their coats, helping Monica put hers on as they huddled with the rest of the crowd, slowly filing out of the stadium. It was late since the game ran into overtime and Monica rested herself against him as they moved slowly up the stairs. Chandler could feel other men's eyes on them, and he knew what they were thinking.

_"How did that happen?"_

If he were pressed to answer, he would have to admit that he had no idea. All he knew was that he felt very lucky. Here he was, not only sleeping with this beautiful woman, but he also loved spending time with her, and as far as he could tell, she loved being with him. He could not remember ever feeling this comfortable with someone.

As they made their way out, he tugged on her arm. "So, you would have skated circles around them, huh?"

"Oh yeah, at the skating rink back on Long Island, I would blow everyone away. If they hadn't banned me for checking the slower skaters out of the way I probably could have gone pro."

Monica let out a little pout as if she truly believed what she just said made her worthy of some sympathy from him. Chandler laughed again as they focused on making their way to the exit.

They eventually found themselves on the street. Monica slid up against him.

"Why don't we walk a bit?"

Chandler smiled and nodded in response and let her lead them through the streets of Manhattan. They huddled close form some warmth on this cool November night.

He looked down at her, sensing she still had some residual energy from the game.

"Have you really always been like this? Fired up about sports and competition all the time?"

She took a moment to think reflectively about his question. "Well, it probably didn't start until I was a teenager. With Ross, everything was a competition. Especially if you wanted attention from our parents. I always felt like I was constantly running in second place. I guess I never got over that."

Monica was slightly stunned that she was able to make that observation so quickly. On some level she knew that Ross always winning her parents favor forced her to be more overzealous in any contest she would take part in, but she never said it out loud to anyone she was dating before. She decided to change the subject and gave Chandler a playful shove.

"You didn't seem to be paying much attention to the game. I caught you looking at me a few times. I'm sorry, did I embarrass you with all my yelling?"

Chandler looked down at her and chuckled. "What? Oh, no. I was just…well…you just always look so beautiful to me. I don't get to be with you alone as often as I would like, so when I get the chance, if it is a choice between looking at a toothless guy in a hockey jersey or looking at you, I pick you every time."

"That's sweet. But I think hockey players can be sexy. Maybe we should get you a hockey jersey. You'd look good in one of those."

"As long as I get to keep all my teeth."

Monica smiled and pulled on him a little tighter. A few quiet minutes went by and Chandler realized that he had no idea where they were going.

"Monica, don't we live in the opposite direction? Where are we going?"

"Shh. It's a surprise."

Chandler was used to Monica taking the lead when they walked together. She usually had a specific destination in mind and since he enjoyed being able to spend time with her, he was happy to go along. Even without knowing where they would end up.

Before Monica, Chandler wasn't much for walking. He would either ride the subway, grab a bus or take a taxi. Monica on the other hand, liked to be outside in the fresh air and she was energized when she would deftly navigate crowded sidewalks. Her getting Chandler used to taking long walks through the city was another contest she considered herself to have won.

Chandler pointed at a building as a look of recognition flashed across his face. "Hey, this is where you work, right?"

Monica smiled. "I figured maybe we would want something to eat after the game and thought we could go there and have a bite."

"Aren't they closing up now?"

Monica huffed and gave Chandler a nudge with her shoulder. "Will you just be quiet and let me do a big romantic gesture for a change?"

Once they got to the front door of Alessandro's, Monica used her key to open it. The two of them slowly walked in. Chandler looked around the darkened lobby as Monica took quick strides towards the kitchen. The lights in the dining area were off and the light from the electronic candles on each table cast a dim glow.

Monica turned around to face Chandler as she stepped over to the service door. "I thought I could make you a late-night snack, we can sit back here away from the street and no one will bother us, none of our friends will be around and we can just be us for a little while longer. Why don't you sit here and I'll be out after I'm done cooking."

Chandler shook his head slowly. "No, I am not going to wait out here alone. It's creepy. Dark, empty stores are where they get you."

"Who gets you?"

"They know who they are." He looked around the empty room once more. "Anyway, I'd rather hang out with you. Plus, I'd get to see you in action in the kitchen. Right?"

Monica laughed, but soon enough her tone became serious as she raised one of her eyebrows. "Of course, you can come with me, just don't get in my way."

Chandler followed her into the kitchen. He propped himself up on a counter-top at the far end while Monica put on an apron and disappeared into the walk-in refrigerator. He looked around and took in his surroundings. He had suddenly realized that he had never been in her work kitchen before.

Monica returned quickly and lightly placed a cantaloupe, a lemon, some dry pasta and a few pieces of prosciutto onto a prep station. She brought over some grape seed oil, salt and black pepper and rested them near the stove-top range. Chandler watched her quietly as she set up each ingredient in a specific order on the table. She filled a pot with water and turned turns on a burner to heat it up. She then added what to Chandler looked like a lot of salt to the water. She grabbed a thin bladed knife and started to slice up the melon, making small chunks.

Chandler watched her as she effortlessly glided around the kitchen. She turned on the burner underneath a pan as she added the oil. She used her hand to feel the heat come off of it and began to drop the sliced fruit gently into the hot oil, letting the melon reduce down to a thick liquid. She allowed herself to breathe in the aroma of the sauce she was making as it cooked It seemed she knew exactly when to ladle in some of the starchy pasta water to break down the sucs and deglaze the pan.

Her movements were deliberate, thoughtful, and soft with a hint of grace. She handled everything with care. Monica seemed to float from one spot to another almost like she was a shadow in the room, never wasting a movement. She ripped the prosciutto into smaller pieces and licked her fingers when she was done, Chandler could almost taste the salty meat with her as she appeared to experience the flavors with every inch of her body.

For the second time tonight, he was completely aroused by an activity he has seen Monica perform for years. He saw her now in the same way he saw her earlier at the game. Yet this time, it was through new eyes. Eyes that have been privy to her at her most intimate and vulnerable. He realized as he watched her cook, that this was the other side of Monica's sexuality. Her defined movements, her ability to enjoy everything with all her senses, her hands sticky with sweet and salty flavor, her eyes soft and desirous. The way she instinctively knew exactly how to bring the temperature of the pan down before it got too hot too fast. Then she would slowly raise the heat again as if holding off the finish in order to fully enjoy the art of her craft.

Monica squeezed half a lemon into the pan, catching the seeds in her hand as the juice ran off the curve of her palm. Chandler's heart began to pound in his chest as a result of the sheer magnitude of the sensuality he perceived in her actions.

She turned to him and licked her lips slowly. She began to meticulously remove the pasta from the boiling water and mixed it with the sauce she created in the pan. She placed the prepared meal onto two plates in twists, showing complete control and tender care for every piece of food she had just cooked.

"Okay mister, show's over. I am about to plate this dish, so you can go outside, and let me present it to you."

Chandler hopped off of the counter. "You're the boss." He watched her rip more of the prosciutto into small strips, placing it artfully on top of the pasta before he left the kitchen.

Once he got out into the lobby, he made his way to a table in the back that would be out of view of anyone who might be walking by. He reached over to another table and took the centerpiece, which was a single flower in a plain white vase, and put it in front of him.

He waited for a few minutes and soon started to become impatient until he heard the kitchen door open. Chandler looked up with his mouth wide open as he lets out an audible gasp. Monica had let her hair down and tussled it into a bouncy bouquet that settled on her shoulders. She was no longer wearing her casual evening outfit. Instead she had on a slight, red negligée that was so sheer he could swear he caught a glimpse of her form underneath it, even in this dim light. He started to try and stand up to meet her when she reached the table.

"Wow, Monica, you look…."

"I know!"

Monica then gestured with her head, giving Chandler a non-verbal command to sit back down. She positioned herself in front of him on the table and twirled some of the pasta onto a fork. She ensured that she got a little bit of every ingredient for his first bite. She held a napkin underneath the forkful of food as she brought it to Chandler's mouth and fed it to him. He was overwhelmed with pleasure and desire that he didn't know he was capable of.

He moved to get up again, but Monica lifted her leg and jabbed the tip of her foot in the center of his chest and she slowly pushed him back down.

"I thought you said I was the boss?"

Monica offered him a seductive smile and brought a forkful of food up to her lips and slowly consumed the delicious blend of sweet and salty flavors. She ran her finger through the sauce on the plate and offers it to Chandler, who obliged and slowly licked it clean.

"We have all night Chandler, and I have a lot planned. Let's just enjoy this."

Chandler smiled, sat back into his chair, and submitted to this woman he had become more obsessed with as each day passed. She teased him with her body as she took turns feeding him and then herself. She used the same napkin to dab on the corners of their mouths and leaned in to share savory kisses with him.

Chandler found he could no longer control himself. He pushed the plate aside, stood up, and lifted Monica up from the table as he kissed her.

"I need dessert. Now!"

Monica smiled and laughed. She dropped the fork down and allowing him to take control. Chandler began to move her to the bench when she realized what they were about to do and she hesitated.

"Wait, we can't do this out here, people eat here."

Chandler reluctantly agreed and began to carry her in his arms towards the kitchen.

"Wait. We can't do it in my kitchen. I cook in there!"

Chandler, frustrated, looked around the restaurant frantically.

"Do you have a back office in this place?"

Monica's face lit up. "Yes!"

She pointed towards a door in the corner of the back of the restaurants.

He stopped and looks down at her. "Does anyone eat or cook in there?"

"No one I care about!"

"Then let's go have sex in that office!"

"Okay!"


	3. Thanksgiving Part 1

**Thanksgiving – Part 1**

In a little less than five hours, Chandler Bing will inadvertently blurt out that he loves Monica Geller, irrevocably changing their lives forever. He does not know any of that right now. Even if he took the time to think about every possible outcome from today's meal, he would never be able to guess what will eventually happen tonight. In fact, all Chandler can think about is his hair.

He has spent more time than he would care to admit getting himself ready for today's Thanksgiving dinner over at Monica and Rachel's. He has tried on several different shirts, took time to stare into the mirror, analyzing every perceived imperfection in his complexion, wondering how the light in the girl's apartment would make his face look. He laments the fact that he didn't shave yesterday, which would have helped him avoid displaying how his skin reacted to the razor this morning. He goes back and forth on whether he smells appropriately and finds himself reapplying deodorant and sniffing at himself awkwardly. All of these things have been preying on his insecurities; but, the worst culprit for all his consternations has been his hair.

On a normal day, he would shower, put some gel in his hair, brush it around a little and let it dry. Today, though, he can't stop adjusting it. He began with using just a little bit of gel, pushing it through his hair and trying to create some lift, but as he began to scrutinize how it looked, finding stray hairs that were out of place, he began adding more and more gel until his hair stood up as rigid spikes, poking in different directions, and as it dried and hardened, he found he could not get it back down.

He can't explain why he feels so self-conscious about his appearance and why it is important to him to look good today. He has been spending Thanksgiving with his friends over at apartment 20 for a few years now, and it has never been a source of high anxiety. If anything, it has added comfort to a holiday that normally bears the imprint of his dysfunctional childhood.

He has been stalling making a decision for a few minutes, pacing about his bedroom. He thought about taking another shower, washing the gel out of his hair and starting over, but it is almost four and he knows better than to show up late for a Monica Geller gathering. No, he knew he was going to need help from Ross or Joey to fix this, which meant he was probably going to endure some abuse about how he looks.

Chandler finally finds the resolve to face his roommates; he opens his bedroom door and makes his way into the living room, gel in hand. He looks around and sees Joey sitting in his chair and he can hear Ross finishing up in the bathroom. "Psst! Joey! Hey!" Joey, sitting in his chair, still watching the television, nods his head. "Joe! I need some help."

"What can I do for you buddy?" Joe spins around, finally looking at Chandler. "Gaahhh! What did you do to your hair?"

"I don't know!" Chandler, now sounding panicked and desperate, attempts to explain. "I guess I just kept going and going and now its all," he waves his hands frantically around his head, "this! I don't know what to do. You're an actor, you have to know something about hair styling, right?"

Joe gets up from his chair and points at Chandler's head. "Well I know never to do that!"

Chandler throws his arms up in desperation. "C'mon. It's the first Thanksgiving that me and Mon…" his voice trails off and he realizes why he has been so nervous and critical of his appearance. Even though all of his friends are going to be there, and he won't get to have any time alone with Monica, it is going to be their first Thanksgiving together as a couple. He had not allowed himself to consider what that meant to him or what it might mean for her, causing that anxiety to manifest itself as self-conscious doubt.

Joe puts his fingers in his ears. "Don't say it. I don't want to know anything more than I already know about you two. Its so hard just keeping it a secret. You know how I crack under pressure! Remember that time Phoebe got me to admit I didn't like mayonnaise?"

Chandler slowly lowers his hands to adopt a calmer tone. "Okay. I'm not going to say anything. I just don't want to look like this. You have to help me."

Joey takes his fingers out of his ears and approaches Chandler, he narrows his eyes and walks around his roommate, darting his head back-and-forth as if trying to unlock some ancient riddle. "Okay, let's see what we're working with." He gently bounces a finger on one of Chandlers spikes. "Ow! How does hair get so sharp? We are never getting all of that out dude."

Chandler's eyes bulge and he becomes agitated again. "You think?" he offers, sarcastically.

Joey starts to rub his chin contemplatively, and then, his eyes widen with excitement, "I got it! Give me some hair gel. I'll just spike up some of my hair and then it'll just look like two guys who did their hair together."

Chandler holds his hands out in disbelief, "And that's better? How?"

"Look, Spike, do you want me to help or not?" Joey folds his arms defiantly, waiting for Chandler to relent. He looks at Joey and reluctantly hands him the tube of hair gel. Joey squeezes some out into his hand and starts to spike up the front of his own hair.

Chandler becomes agitated again. "Hey, that doesn't look like mine! Your hair looks better now!"

Joey, smoothing out his hair gives Chandler a cunning smile. "That's good. I don't want to look like you. You look terrible."

"Your hair looks too good now. You have to do it like this." Chandler reaches his hands over and starts to run them through Joey's hair. Pulling it up in a random pattern.

"Hey, that's not fair. If you're gonna do that to mine, well, then you have to do yours like this." Joey, reaches over and starts to pull on Chandler's hair. The two men stand in the living room manipulating the other's hair for several minutes. Locked in a strange form of combative hair styling.

Just then, the bathroom door opens and Ross comes out. Joey and Chandler freeze their motions, hands still deep into each other's scalp as they look up at him, their eyes wide. "Hey guys, what's, uh, what's going on?"

Joey looks over at Chandler and then back to Ross. "You know, just doing our hair. That's what good roommates do."

Ross looks at the both of them in stunned silence for a few seconds and then his expression turns to one of wholesome naivete. "Is that hair gel? Well, I want some too." Ross grabs at the tube of gel, squeezes some out and then begins to massage it into Chandler's hair.

Chandler looks at him incredulously, "What are you doing?"

Ross, looking confused, takes his hands out of Chandler's hair. "What, isn't this how you guys are doing it? I thought we were helping style each other's hair. You know, being good roommates."

Joey turns to Ross, "we are big guy. Here, let me help you out." and he takes his hands from Chandler's hair and begins to massage gel into Ross'.

Chandler, still exasperated, eyes bulging as his voice goes to a higher octave, "Why did you start doing my hair?"

Ross looks both men up and down. "Well, Joey's hair looks good. You look like you could use the help." Ross resumes styling Chandler's hair. "This actually feels kind of nice. Well, once I got past these pointy spots. Hey, maybe this could be our thing while I'm living here. We're like gel brothers. Ooo. We could call ourselves 'Ross and the Gel-lers', it would be so cool."

"Could we call ourselves three men who never talk about this again?" Chandler deadpans. "That would be kind of cool too."

Just then, the apartment door swings open haphazardly as Rachel walks in carrying two pies. "Hey guys Mon said you'd have the oven preheated for these pies. Are you guys ready to come over yet?" Rachel stops dead in her tracks and looks at the three of them. "What? I? What? What are you guys doing?"

Chandler and Joey freeze up again, stopping all motion. Both sharing looks of embarrassment, standing like statues connected by their hands and heads. Ross, without looking over at Rachel or stopping his hands from primping up Chandler's hair, simply offers, in an upbeat tone, "They can go right in the oven. We should be done in a few minutes."

Rachel, gently places the pies onto the counter top, looks back at the boys incredulously one more time, throws her hands up, and walks out of the apartment.


	4. Thanksgiving Part 2

**Thanksgiving – Part 2**

In a little less than five hours, Chandler Bing will inadvertently blurt out that he loves Monica Geller, irrevocably changing their lives forever. She does not know any of that right now. Even if she took the time to think about every possible outcome from today's meal, she would never be able to guess what will eventually happen tonight. In fact, all Monica can think about is finishing the final preparations on this year's Thanksgiving dinner.

Monica has been busy all morning getting everything ready. She has cooked several specific dishes for everyone. She made a traditional Thanksgiving dinner that includes a turkey, stuffing, gravy, yams, brussels sprouts, cranberry sauce and three different types of potatoes; tots for Joey, whipped with peas and onions for Phoebe, and mashed with lumps for Ross. She also prepared Phoebe a vegetarian entrée with different types of squash and sweet potatoes. Lastly, she prepared grilled cheese sandwiches, tomato soup and a small chicken for Chandler. She even has a back-up turkey ready; a habit she had formed after everything burned during the group's first Thanksgiving. Usually, if the back-up turkey goes unused, she makes it the next day for Mr. Treeger as a holiday gift. Treeger, the superintendent, had let Monica know he prefers the more personal gift of a home cooked meal rather than just a cash tip.

Over the last few years, Monica had noticed that Chandler's aversion to all things Thanksgiving has weakened a bit. He has started eating more of the side dishes that she prepares, including tasting all three types of potatoes and the cranberry sauce. His real hard line stance on not eating "pilgrim food" is down to turkey and stuffing. He normally just eats the grilled cheese sandwiches or mac n cheese, if that is offered, but never demands anything else special. This year though, Monica decided to make him a chicken. Rachel was a little surprised she was going through all the trouble, but Monica insisted it was not a big deal.

Monica knew she wanted to make something special for Chandler this year. She had been thinking about the last few Thanksgiving dinners together as a group and recalled how Chandler gave a sweet and impromptu speech at their very first one, galvanizing them all into agreeing to spend the holiday together instead of with their own families from that point on. She also reflected on how angry they were that night, yelling at each other over failed plans and burned food. Eventually though, they stopped bickering, realizing they should be grateful and appreciate the fact that they had each other. She remembers how the one friend she immediately connected with at that moment was Chandler. It was a shared expression of platonic love between the two, which was still, to this day, a meaningful moment for her; further solidifying their bond. That, combined with how he spent last year in a box; she figured he deserved something a little extra.

At least, that is what she would tell Rachel if pressed on it. The real reason is more personal. Earlier in the week, when she was picking up groceries for tonight's meal and crossed off the supplies on her list for each individual friend, she paused when she reached Chandler's name and had a sudden epiphany; this will be her first holiday season, in the apartment, with an actual boyfriend.

Sure, she may have had a date on the holidays, or even invited an old boyfriend just to come for dinner or a party. None of those really meets the label of boyfriend. With Chandler, this year, she knows they are together. There is no guesswork. They are a couple in a relationship. This isn't some desperation reach for companionship. This is someone she is close to, intimate with, and most of all, happy with.

Monica acknowledges that this is not a typical relationship; they are still sneaking around, no one else knows about them, save Joey, and he doesn't know much. They haven't actually used the words boyfriend or girlfriend aloud, or talked about their feelings for each other, however, Monica's intuition informs her that they have indeed come to terms with what they are, even if they have not admitted to themselves exactly what that is.

Both of them, due to failed relationships in the past, are far too apprehensive to move too fast or too slow and ruin the wonderful thing they have been experiencing together. Treating their courtship like a Faberge egg. Precious, rare and extremely delicate. She has convinced herself that she does not need to know where this relationship is going, even though every impulse she used to have when dating someone for this long would be screaming the exact opposite.

Now, ever since Monica made this realization about having a boyfriend for the holidays, she hasn't felt as rushed, pressured or even fatigued from all the cooking, which would normally happen right before everyone came over. Today, she has a bounce in her step and can't stop smiling.

Monica knows that the two of them probably won't be able to get any significant time alone this evening, but she is content with the fact that they will be around each other, even with their other friends are present. During these last few months, they have mastered the art of slight touches and knowing glances in plain sight, that have gone unnoticed by their friends. They've always been close and comfortably huddled together throughout their friendship, that it doesn't look odd when they sit next to each other and leave a hand lingering on a knee or shoulder. She has even considered snuggling with him on the couch, under a blanket, while everyone else was there, but has yet to work up the courage to try it. She is almost certain it wouldn't look out of character, as long as they weren't too busy with their hands underneath.

This secret between them, that they've been able to secure for these last few months, has been invigorating. Exciting her in ways she did not expect. It also feels familiar. Like the time before everyone else was so ubiquitous in her life and at her home. When it would just be the two of them. As each other's only true friend. Spending time together, sharing stories, secrets, even having a physical connection, while never turning sexual; it was always there, that level of closeness. Now it has been intensified. Like they set a fire to dry kindling and are basking in the heat of that flame.

The front door to the apartment opens up as Rachel returns, breaking Monica out of her daydream. "Monica. I just don't think I will ever understand men." Rachel makes her way to the table and starts to mindlessly fold napkins.

"Sweetie, don't do that, just fold them once." Monica picks up a napkin to show Rachel how she wants them to look. "See, just do this and then one more crease here and…"

Rachel grabs the napkin from Monica, cutting her off and starts to fold it into little squares. "I mean, you think you know a guy. Or in this case, guys."

Before Monica can continue her protests to Rachel, Joey, Ross and Chandler walk in. Their hair slick with gel, Ross tussled and dropping down his neck, Joey's slightly standing up in the front, and Chandler's with a few odd looking spikes poking around in different directions. Monica looks at him and gives off a slight laugh. "Hey, Alfalfa? Is Darla and Spanky on the way?"

Chandler just mocks a laugh and walks into the living room, plopping himself down on the couch. Dejected.

"Monica, everything smells so good." Ross inhales with satisfaction. "This is just what I needed. Did you do the potatoes with the lumps?"

Monica reaches out and rubs Ross' shoulders reassuringly, "Yes, Ross. Just how you like them. Why don't you go sit down. Phoebe should be here soon and we will start eating."

As if choreographed, Phoebe walks in. She takes off her coat and hangs it on the hook by the door. "Oh, this has already been a day. I'm so hungry I could eat a horse sized eggplant." Everyone turns to look at her, puzzled. "Well, I can't say horse. I don't eat meat. Don't you guys pay any attention?" Phoebe huffs and sits down at the kitchen table, which has been extended with the leaf added to fit all the food and all six friends.

Monica wipes her hands on a dish towel and puts some utensils on the table. "Rachel, could you help put these out for everyone? Ross, Joey, do you mind pouring the wine? Chandler? Can you help me check on the pies?"

Chandler perks up and walks over to the door to join Monica. As soon as they step outside into the hallway, they embrace and kiss. Holding each other for a few minutes as they then make their way into his apartment. Once they close the door, they begin to kiss again; Monica running her hands up the base of Chandler's neck. "Chandler. What did you do to your hair?"

Chandler wraps his arms tightly around her waist. "Oh, this? Well, I think this is how the pilgrims wore their hair after they arrived on the S.S. Vidal Sassoon."

"Honey, S.S. stands for Steam Ship. The pilgrims didn't have those." Monica leans in and kisses him softly on the lips. "We can't stay too long, but we can probably come back here one or two more times to check the pies."

He looks down at her and smiles, "You just want to make sure they don't burn." Monica laughs and they kiss again, holding each other tenderly, knowing they will soon have to return to the others and go back to pretending they are not a couple. She brings her hand down his arm and interlocks her fingers with his. They smile at each other with genuine adoration until Monica leads Chandler to the door, through the hall, and back into her apartment.


	5. Thanksgiving Part 3

**Thanksgiving – Part 3**

"_You are so great. I love you." _

Monica hoped she might be able to get away from thinking about what Chandler had said to her by taking a much-needed hot shower, wash off any traces of raw turkey out of her hair and then go to sleep. _"I'll deal with it in the morning." _She thought. _"A shower. That will clear my head." _Instead, Chandler's words followed her into the bathroom, swimming around her brain, making her dizzy.

She has been standing in the shower for forty-five minutes, letting the hot water from the nozzle run over her head and through her hair; leaning against the tile. Steam filling the tiny room as she hears his words repeatedly in her head. She keeps replaying the events of this evening, trying to make sense of everything that happened earlier.

"_He loves me. He said it. It doesn't matter if he panicked or tried to take it back after he said it. He said it!" _She smiles at the thought of those words and what they mean, as she runs her hands through her hair. Feeling the texture with her fingers. She turns around and lets the hot water roll off her back._ "Who tells someone they love them when they have a dead bird on their head?"_

She finally feels clean and reaches behind her to turn off the water. Sliding the shower curtain over, grabbing a towel and instinctively wrapping it around her body. She steps up to the mirror and wipes her hand through the steam that collected there so she could look at herself. _"Why would he say it at that moment? What kind of terrible timing does that man have?'_

She pats herself dry, runs a brush through her hair a few times until she is satisfied with the results and, instead of tying it up, lets it fall onto her shoulders. _"I didn't even get to say it back. I do love him? Right?" _Monica stops at the bathroom door, as if in a trance, and begins to play out everything that has happened over the last few months. A smile forms on her lips as she thinks back to London, the week after when they got home, the stupid fight about goofing around, the disastrous Atlantic City trip, the stolen dinners together, the sex, the walks through the city, the early mornings waking up next to him. She realizes, she hasn't been this happy to hear a guy tell her he loves her since Richard. _"I can't believe it."_

Monica opens the bathroom door and lightly pads her way to her bedroom. She tries to stay quiet in order to avoid Rachel, who is reading a book in her room. Once she gets inside her bedroom and closes the door, she stands frozen. One hand holding her towel in place, the other balled up in a fist. _"Okay, he definitely said he loves me, but then he freaked out. Did he freak out because he didn't mean it or because I didn't say it back right away? Do I want to say it? I didn't have time to think! Suddenly he tells me he loves me and then Joey shows up. Why didn't I say anything back? And who wants to have a turkey on their head the first time they say I love you to their boyfriend! He is the worst!"_

"_You are so great. I love you."_

His words play again in her mind. Monica walks over to the top of her bureau and removes a small container of skin moisturizer. She sits on the end of her bed and begins to apply it to her shoulders, then her arms, lifting one leg up at a time as she applies the creamy lotions to each. _"He was overreacting. Why did I even bother doing that with the turkey? This whole thing is crazy. I don't want crazy; I don't want turkeys on heads and severed toes and secret relationships and sneaking around. I want a stable, grown up, responsible relationship." _

Monica huffs and stops applying the moisturizer. She looks off towards the window in her bedroom and recalls everything that happened after Chandler left. She remembers Ross, Joey, Phoebe and Rachel deciding they wanted to walk around the block, thinking the fresh air would help make them feel better after engorging themselves on food. She decided to stay behind and get started on cleaning up. She began to pack up the leftovers, opened the refrigerator, and there it was. The back-up turkey. Almost calling out to her. She couldn't contain herself and began to cackle wildly at the idea. She thought to herself, _"Imagine the look on his face. Who could stay upset when they see this?"_

Before she could think about what she was doing, she was rummaging around through the trunk in her bedroom. Pulling out giant novelty sunglasses and a fez hat that have been sitting in there for years. She then rushed back out to the kitchen and started running a dish towel inside the bird, hoping it would clean off enough of the myoglobin from the inside so she wouldn't get too slimy from wearing it. Then she was out in the hall, about to put a turkey on her head. About to knock on his door and do the most ridiculous thing she has ever done.

"_Why? Why did I do that? What was I thinking? Who am I kidding? I wasn't thinking."_ She places the moisturizer back on her dresser and takes an emery board to begin filing her toenails, one-by-one. Feeling each one as she does, counting out how many times she swipes the rough edge on her toes. Over the years Monica has figured out exactly how many times she needs to run the board over her nails to get the perfect finish. Even then, in mid-count, she became distracted.

"_You are so great. I love you."_

Monica's memory slips back to a few weeks ago, when Ross was still trying to save his marriage with Emily and Rachel was compelled to tell him that she was still in love with him. She hears her own words, loud and damning. _"Do you have any idea how painful it is to tell someone you love them and not have them say it back?"_

"_That has to be it. He may not have planned it, and it wasn't romantic, but he meant it. You don't say it to someone with a turkey on their head unless you can't contain how you feel. I didn't say it back." _Monica drops the emery board on her bed and holds her hands together for a few minutes. Her mind racing through all the possible things she could have done or could have said that might have made a difference.

Monica stands up and sways a bit, holding her arms together and looking over at her empty bed. Her mind conjures up an image of Chandler, laying there, asleep, his shoes still on, flower petals carefully placed on the empty side where she would curl up against him. A warm smile breaks across her face. _"That's why I did it. That's why I put that disgusting thing on my head and danced around like an idiot. I love the big jerk." _

Monica walks over to her dresser and starts to pull out a set of pajamas. She takes off her towel, makes sure she is dry, applies some deodorant, gets dressed and lays in bed. She looks up at the ceiling for a few minutes allowing herself to let his words wash over her.

_"You are so great!_ _I love you."_

"I love you too." She says softly and rolls over to her side, running her hand in a slow, small circle on the empty part of the bed next to her. _"I can't bring it up. He got so flustered and nervous. I have to wait for him to say it again, on his own. I can do that. I can wait. At least, now I know. We love each other. _She reaches over to turn out the light and settles herself comfortably under the sheets and comforter, sleep only moments away. _"I promise, the next time he says it, I will say it back."_


	6. Thanksgiving Part 4

**Thanksgiving – Part 4 **

"_You are so great. I love you." _

Chandler sits in the back of a yellow taxicab, a bundle of nervous energy, sliding from side to side. He tried to stay home and think through what he said earlier tonight to Monica. He had hoped to work it out rationally. Remain calm. Unfortunately, he could not contain himself. It took all of his self-control not to burst out of his bedroom and confess what he said to Ross and Joey so he could get their input and, more importantly, not be left alone with his own thoughts. _"What did I just do? I am such an idiot! Maybe I can keep convincing her I didn't say it, that she was just hearing things. I can get away with that. She misheard me and I said something else." _He lets out an audible groan and makes eye contact with the driver through the rearview mirror.

Chandler, in his frantic state, told the guys he was going to take a walk. They didn't really seem to notice he was leaving, both of his friends still in a malaise from all the food they consumed. As he got down to the street, Chandler's first instinct was to walk over to the nearest bodega and buy a pack of cigarettes. Just one, long, slow drag and he knew he would forget everything from today and succumb to that nicotine high his body always craves. He began to walk briskly down the street when he started to think about the last time he wanted a cigarette. It was when Phoebe had given birth to the triplets and he was freaking out a little about his burgeoning relationship with Monica. Suddenly he had an irrational impulse. Hailed a cab and took off to a new destination.

"_This is fixable though, I mean, okay, so I said I love you. I can work around that, right?" _The cab races through the streets of Manhattan. Moving around recklessly through the traffic. "Sir, I'd like to show up alive, if that's possible?" The cab driver just ignores Chandler and continues his dangerous path through the crowded streets.

"_You are so great. I love you."_

Chandler rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands as he thinks about what he said. "S_he didn't exactly say anything back. How am I supposed to take that? Wait, what did she say? Was it a good reaction? A bad one? Did I move too fast? Do I actually love her? Did I ruin it by saying it or by jumping up and down trying to deny I said it?" _ The cab stops at the entrance of St. Vincent's Hospital. Chandler shoves a wad of wrinkled cash into the driver's hand. "Keep the change! Thanks for not killing me." He exits the car and bounds down the walkway towards the main entrance doors to the hospital.

Once he enters the lobby, he attempts to jog his memory from the last time he was here. He remembers that he was on the third floor near the maternity ward, so he makes his way to the elevators. Once the doors open and he exits on his desired floor, he begins to look around, trying to find something familiar. He bounces on the balls of his feet for a few minutes and then locates the nurse's station where he sees three female nurses looking over some paperwork together. He rushes over to the desk and starts tapping his hands frantically on the counter. "Hello, hello. I'm looking for a nurse lady."

All three women look up at him. Chandler studies their faces, but doesn't recognize any of them. The oldest of the three nurses shoots Chandler a condescending look and sarcastically replies. "That narrows it down to about 80 percent of us. Do you have a name?"

Chandler, suddenly realizing how irrational he is being, tries to calm his voice. "No. She was a nurse, and a lady and she was old and wise." He realizes as soon as he finishes speaking that he did not sound as calm as he had thought he would.

Before one of the nurses from behind the desk can continue their line of questioning, he hears a weary voice from behind. "Oh no. What the hell kid. Why are you here. You better be hurt. I only want to hear from you if you're hurt."

Chandler, almost relieved, turns around to see the familiar face of the nurse who gave him that quick pep talk a few months ago. "I need your help. You have to help me. I did something terrible and I need your help. I told the girl I am seeing that I love her."

The three nurses all give out an audible "aww!" in unison.

"Don't encourage him." She snaps.

It is too late. The three nurses appear invested in what Chandler has to say. The youngest speaks up, "Oh Sheila, what's the harm. " she turns back to Chandler. "What did she say?"

Chandler swings around to face the nurse who just spoke. "Well, she sounded shocked." He darts his eyes between all four nurses now, the three at the desk and Sheila, the nurse he remembers from his last visit.

The youngest nurse presses forward with her questions. "Well, did she look happy?"

Chandler takes a moment to reflect, "I don't know. She had a turkey on her head so I couldn't see her face. She was trying to make up for cutting off my toe."

Sheila throws her arms up in surrender. "I can't do this. You are an episode of Night Court and I am supposed to be on St. Elsewhere. You three can have him. I'm out."

Chandler turns back to the three nurses behind the counter. "She didn't say it back. That means she doesn't love me, right? I screwed up."

The nurse who hasn't spoken yet stiffens up, "What kind of turkey was it?"

Chandler, looking confused. "I don't know. Are there different kinds of turkey? It wasn't cooked."

Sheila, almost despite herself, has to know. "She put a raw turkey on her head?" Chandler nods. "Yeah, she loves you. Now please leave."

Chandler turns back to face the other three nurses. "Wait? Really?"

The youngest of the three smiles. "She could have gotten an infection from the raw meat on her eye or if she swallowed any of it when it was on her head. She took a health risk. That's at least a good sign."

A few minutes later Chandler finds himself back outside the main entrance to St. Vincent's Hospital. Waiting for an empty cab to pull up and take him home. _"Well, I can't bring this up when I see her tomorrow. I have to play this cool. She knows what I said. I'll let her decide when to make the next move."_

"_You are so great. I love you."_

Chandler smiles and laughs a bit this time as he thinks on what he said. He searches his feelings one more time. Focusing on Monica and everything they have been through since they got back from London. _"I do love her. I can't stop thinking about her. If she asks me about it, then I'll tell her the truth. If she says she loves me. I'll say it back." _He opens the door to the cab, climbs in and they speed off into the night.


	7. Unseasonably Hot

**Unseasonably Hot**

Chandler is sitting in Monica's bed, propped up on a pillow with his hands behind his head. He is shirtless, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts and one sock on his right foot. He called in sick today. It was the eighth sick day he has taken since they got back from London. He privately acknowledges that he is probably pushing it with his poor attendance at work; but when he realized early last week, that this weekend would mark three months together with Monica, he wanted to spend all day with her. With Ross now staying at Chandler and Joey's apartment until he finds his own place, it has been getting harder to sneak around at night. Arranging time alone during the day has proven to be easier; Rachel and Phoebe are normally working, Ross is either apartment shopping or using his enforced leave of absence from work to spend more time with Ben, and Joey, knowing about them but trying to pretend he doesn't, stays out of their way. With Monica's unconventional work scheduled, they can plan mornings, early afternoons or even full days together before anyone else comes home.

Once they were able to secure time alone this morning, Chandler and Monica immediately went to her bedroom. They spent the entire day alternating between having sex, talking, laughing, short naps, more sex, quick showers, food breaks, and more sex; all while drinking copious amounts of water.

He looks over at Monica, who is cooling herself by the open window, wearing only a tank top and plain white cotton panties. She has the shade drawn to ensure privacy, but hopes the fresh air coming in will cool off the room. It is December 7th, and, in New York City, that normally means cold weather; but this last week has been uncharacteristically warm. Today it felt like summer, hitting almost 80 degrees at one point. They are both hot and tired, but determined that the warm weather would not stop them from enjoying this time together. Chandler reflects on how much sex he has been having lately. He cannot think of a time in his life where he was this sexually active. He keeps staring at Monica, who snatched an ice cube from her glass of water and is using it to cool her neck. He smirks, thinking how she seems to have just as voracious an appetite as he does when it comes to their sex life.

"You're so much hotter than me." He confesses, causing Monica to turn and face him.

"Well, it's like summer out there." She continues to move the ice cube down her neck to her chest, just above the collar of her shirt.

"No, I mean, you're just so beautiful. I still can't believe I get to see you like this all the time." He shifts his legs a bit and sits up taller against the headboard.

Monica looks down at herself for a moment. "I'm just wearing a tank top and pretty basic underwear. And I'm sweaty. And my hair is probably a mess."

"You look great to me. Is this how you dress all the time when the weather is warm and you're home alone? Because I may just have to take off the entire summer so I can experience that." Chandler makes a square with his thumbs and index fingers, holding it up as if he is putting Monica in a frame.

"Stop it." Monica takes the ice cube and crunches it between her teeth. "Well, my view isn't so bad either. I have had this handsome, half-naked man in my bed all day. Well, except for the one sock. Why do you have only one sock on?"

Chandler looks down at his feet. "Oh this? This is how I seduce you into going for one more round." He starts to wiggle the toes of his bare foot. "See, this guy; well you can see what he's up to. He's pretty innocent." He stops the movement and begins to wiggle the toes on his other foot, under the sock. He changes the inflection of his voice to sound deeper and mockingly sexy. "But this guy, you don't know what he is up too. All sorts of nasty, freaky stuff."

Monica laughs. "Okay, consider me seduced." She adds sarcastically. "Why don't we take this into the shower? Cool off? Maybe you'll have better luck there."

Chandler jumps to his feet. "Wet, naked Monica is my favorite!" He grabs her by the hand and moves swiftly out of the bedroom and into the bathroom.

Monica reaches up for a quick kiss and then sits on the edge of the bathtub. She turns on the water and tests the temperature while Chandler quickly strips down. She gives another breathy laugh at his exuberance, takes off her clothes and leads him into the shower. They pull the curtain closed and begin to kiss again. She positions the shower-head so they both can feel the cooling sensation of the water.

Chandler pulls back and looks at her. Studying her body. He slowly traces his finger along her clavicle, connecting her freckles with the invisible lines he draws. "Does it make sense for me to be a little jealous of Joey?"

She looks at him and her brow wrinkles in confusion. "I thought you were supposed to be seducing me."

Chandler, his eyes still following the movements of his finger on her skin. "I just mean, as far as everyone is concerned. You had sex with him. I feel a little weird about that. I guess I'm jealous that he is getting all the credit for what we did in London. Is that a bad thing to say? I mean, you're this incredibly sexy woman and I'm just, well, me, and since he's Joey it makes sense to everybody that he would be the one you were sleeping with. Am I sounding crazy?"

Monica lifts his chin so their eyes can meet. "Okay, first off, if you want to have sex with me in the shower, don't talk about Joey while we're naked. Second, I don't think I came off particularly sexy when he said that. Everyone was kind of grossed out by it. Third, would you rather be my cover story and we don't sleep together or do you want to be here, having sex all day?" Chandler smiles at her and she kisses him slowly. "Unless you think it's time we come clean and tell everyone?" Chandler looks at her sharply and then he lets his eyes fall to the side, reflectively. Monica keeps her eyes on him. _"Just say it again." _She thinks to herself, _"If you say it again, I'll say it back."_

Chandler looks back at her. "Do you think we're ready for that?" his eyes search her face for any sign of what she is thinking, and waiting for her to say something. After Thanksgiving, Chandler is still not comfortable initiating the next step in their relationship, and he hopes Monica will broach the subject first.

Monica maintains eye contact with Chandler. After a few moments of silence, she feels like she has to say something to cut the tension. "Maybe," she hesitates, "maybe we still need to figure a few things out first." She keeps her gaze on him. Softening her features, smiling, holding his hips, hoping the tenderness in her eyes makes the uncomfortable silence less distracting. Trying to convey her desire not to put too much pressure on him, while also hoping she provided him with the right opening to bring up what they are both thinking about. What they both want to say, but for their own reasons, as if they are protecting each other, will not.

Chandler, a little flustered, looks at her, smiles, and finally breaks his silence, "Sure. We should do that first. You're right." He returns to his light-hearted tone. "Why would I be jealous when I have you right here, right now? My sex life has never been this hot!"

She smiles at him, "Okay. So we agree. We aren't ready to tell yet." Chandler nods. "Okay then, now let's get back to all this seducing you were talking about."

* * *

Forty-minutes pass and they finally emerge from the bathroom, wrapped in towels and make their way back to her bedroom. Monica slips on another thin tank top, a pair of pajama shorts, and comfortable socks. She starts to throw Chandler's work clothes, a blue button-down shirt, tie, and black slacks, onto the bed from the floor. "You probably should get dressed. Rachel will be home soon." She looks back towards the window, the sun already set due to the short December days, yet the room still feels warm. "I can't get over how hot it's been. This doesn't feel like what I thought our fir…" Monica stops herself before labeling this their first Christmas together, "What Christmas is supposed to feel like."

Chandler picks up on what she was going to say but he is not sure if she cut herself off for his sake or her own. While pulling his pants on he tries to think of something to add to make her feel better. "Well you have the tree up already, and all the decorations. That's kind of Christmas-y."

"It isn't the same. I shouldn't be able to sun bathe in December." Monica folds her arms in frustration.

"Well, look. We can still make this a pretty special Christmas for ourselves." Chandler, kneels on the bed, reaches out for Monica to take his hand and he looks off wistfully, "The weather will break soon. Maybe once it cools down, we can take one of those evening walks through the city, imagine a light snow coming down."

Monica unfolds her arms, climbs on the bed, kneels in front of Chandler and takes his hand in hers. "Keep talking." An excited smile crosses her lips.

"We can go see the tree in Rockefeller Center. Grab some hot chocolate and watch people ice skating." Chandler pulls Monica close and wraps one arm around her back, he looks off to the far wall and waves his hand as if he were conjuring up the images for her to see, "We could walk down Fifth Avenue after we're done and look at all the Christmas displays. I'll even go with you to Union Square for that Holiday Market you talk about every year. The full Chandler Bing/Monica Geller New York City Christmas experience."

Monica's smile grows wider. She wraps her arms around Chandler's neck and kisses him "That sounds like a wonderful way to enjoy Christmas."

Chandler pulls back "Wait, aren't you Jewish?"

Monica sighs, "My mother's family celebrates Christmas. I always liked it more than Hanukah. All the lights and the trees. We were never really that religious growing up so I never felt too connected to the Jewish holidays." She pulls in closer to him for another kiss, "How did you convince me to have sex with you so many times today when you've killed the mood talking about Joey, religion, wearing one sock."

"Okay, well how about this." Chandler reaches into the back pocket of his pants. He fumbles a bit but finally pulls out an envelope and gives it to her. "look, I wasn't sure what I could get you for Christmas, or when I should give it to you. So, I thought, maybe a gift that was something we could do together instead of something you might have to explain where it came from to Rachel or Ross. This way it wouldn't raise too many eyebrows," Monica opens the envelope and pulls out two printed event tickets. "It's, uh, it's Billy Joel. He is playing the Garden and I thought, well, maybe dinner and a concert would work as a gift. I don't even know if you like him. I'm sorry, I'm not always great at this part."

Monica laughs, "Yes, I like Billy Joel. I was raised on Long Island. If you grow up on Long Island and don't like Billy Joel, they kick you out. I think this is a wonderful idea, that and our New York Christmas tour, a night in the city, just the two of us. Sounds like a great Christmas." She looks down pensively as she rests her head against Chandler's chest, her arms wrapped around his waist. "Now I feel bad. I don't have anything for you yet."

Chandler eyes her slyly. "Well, you could make your way down to Victoria Secrets or somewhere like that. Maybe pick up something lacey and see through."

Monica looks back up and copies his smile. "I don't think they'll have anything in your size."

Chandler laughs. "Remind me how I let you have sex with me so many times today?" They lean in for one last kiss before he has to leave when suddenly they are startled by the sound of the apartment door opening and slamming shut.

"Rachel!" Monica leaps off the bed grabs her terrycloth red robe and wraps it around her, "Get dressed! I'll let you know when the coast is clear." She begins to cinch the sash and leaves the room, closing the door behind her, while Chandler starts to frantically put his clothes on.


	8. Twenty-Four Hour Convenience

**Twenty-Four-Hour Convenience**

**Saturday – 4:00pm:** The car was still lurching a bit as steam tried to escape from any space it could find under the hood. The front wheels were up off the highway unevenly as the vehicle balanced itself on a snow bank against the guardrail. The smell of burning oil filled the interior, along with the sounds of Sheryll Crow's "My Favorite Mistake", which was still playing on the radio. Headlights from cars slowing down as they pass, glaring in the rearview mirror. Large, chunky snowflakes quickly blanketing the front windshield, obscuring the view of the road.

* * *

**Last Wednesday – 3:30pm:** Monica looks over her shoulder as she goes to sit down next to Chandler, who was already seated comfortably on their familiar Central Perk sofa. She scans the room out of habit, even though Monica knows none of their friends would be around this time of day. This extra visual confirmation that they are safe to talk freely makes her feel more comfortable, allowing herself to let her guard down. She glides her fingers over to Chandler's hand, lightly wrapping them around his. These inconspicuous touches are all they allow themselves when meeting on such facile ground. Monica's eyes go wide as a large grin spreads across her lips. "Do you still have that brochure?"

Chandler leans back on the couch, looks over at her and smiles. "Yes, I have it right here. Do you want to see it again?"

"Uh, yes please!" Monica clasps her hands together and starts to rub them in anticipation, becoming giddy. Chandler reaches into his inside jacket pocket and pulls out a brochure. On the front page it proudly displays the words "The Inn at the Round Barn Farm: A Better Way to Stay in Vermont." She opens the brochure and runs her fingers over the picture of the room they reserved. A four-post queen sized bed, fireplace, terrace with a view of the grounds, a large bath built for two; quaint, detailed rustic woodwork. "I've always wanted to go to a place like this!" Monica's excitement practically bubbling over and spilling out of her.

Chandler leans over and gleefully looks at the brochure with her, pointing at the chair in the photo. "I know. Check out the embroidery on the furniture!" Monica looks up for a moment to make eye contact with him as she smirks. Inferring, with her expression, that he just said something he should be embarrassed about. Truthfully, Monica finds it adorable when Chandler voices his more feminine tastes. He doesn't behave like a typical guy his age, driven to prove his masculinity, and that endears him to her. Still, making him uncomfortable and seeing him become flustered never ceases to amuse her. Knowing, if called out on it, he would fumble clumsily to find some way to divert attention from what he said. "I mean, look at those tools by the fireplace. That poker thing. I'm going to be using that a lot!" Chandler starts to inexplicably mime sword fighting.

Monica raises an eyebrow and mocks a tone of admonishment. "Well, if you can pull yourself away from your needlepoint this weekend, I'd hope you be more interested in using your other poker thing on me."

Chandler, playing along, acts shocked. "Monica E. Geller. You are naughty!"

Monica just lets out a sultry, "I know", laughs, and returns her gaze to the brochure. She allows herself to daydream, envisioning a romantic overnight stay, huddling up by a fire, sharing a blanket while they pick at leftovers from their room service meal, enjoying champagne; all while surrounded by gorgeous wintery scenery.

* * *

**Saturday - 5:30pm:** By the time the police arrived at the scene of the accident, Monica was already bitterly cold. It took them almost thirty minutes to show up. Thankfully, she wasn't getting too wet from the falling snow since Chandler had given her his heavy coat to wear. For his own warmth, Chandler pulled out a thick sweatshirt from his duffel bag in the back seat, but she could tell it wasn't enough to keep him warm and it certainly wasn't keeping him dry. She tried to get him to take his coat back knowing he can't take the cold weather any better than she can, but he refused. He told her she could stay in the car but Monica knew she was probably better suited to answer any questions about what had happened than he was.

The police officers were accommodating, letting them sit in the cruiser as they filled out the report. One of them even offered to call for a tow truck from the service number provided by the rental company. When the truck finally arrived and the driver finished hooking up the car, they climbed in the cab and were driven to a twenty-four-hour repair shop a few miles away.

Monica made sure to grab the rental car paperwork from the glovebox so they could call from the repair shop once they got there, in hopes of receiving a replacement vehicle. They were only a little over an hour away from their destination and she thought they could still make it there in time for dinner. The idea that in a few short hours they could be wrapped up together in a blanket, warming themselves by the fire kept her spirits up.

* * *

**Last Thursday – 1:30am:** Chandler quietly slips into Monica's bedroom, seeing her sitting up waiting for him. He flashes a warm smile as they kiss and lay down together. She rolls over to look at him. "So, is everything set for this weekend?"

He turns to face her and plays with her hair, pushing strands back, away from her face, tucking them behind her ears. Monica has always felt self-conscious about their size. She would try to hide them behind her hair. Chandler, though, would always do this; exposing them, as he narrows his eyes, smiling at her and then leaning in, leaving the soft imprints of gentle kisses along her earlobes. She was keenly aware how comfortable he could make her feel in her own skin by instinctively focusing his affections on the parts of her body that make her the most insecure. He makes her believe that she is flawless. She doesn't remember ever sharing these insecurities with him, and yet, he knows exactly what to do, and these sweet gestures from him, eases away her diffidence.

He whispers to her between kisses on the nape of her neck. "I told Ross and Joey I was going to be in Jersey doing some kind of all-day training with new software and that I would probably just stay the night. What about you?"

Monica began to tug on his t-shirt, pulling on it between her fingers. "Well, I switched my Saturday shift for Sunday. We just have to get back in time for me to go to work. I wish we could go the entire weekend but I just couldn't get Friday off. I told Rachel I was going home to Long Island for a cooking seminar and that I might just stay the night at my parents."

Chandler places his hand on her hip and gently runs his fingers along the curve of her thigh. "I have the car rental all set up and I have a bag ready in my room. You can add some stuff to it and I'll take it to the car. This way you won't look suspicious carrying too many bags."

Monica leans in and kisses Chandler again, moving her hands to the hem of his shirt, lifting it slightly so she can make contact with his bare skin. "Thanks for doing this. I know a ten-hour round-trip drive for just one night seems ridiculous, but I never really did anything like this. Just me and my…" she stops short of saying boyfriend, unsure if Chandler would be ready to receive that title. "Just me and you, we get to spend all night together. Not having to sneak around or go back to our own beds."

Chandler smiles again. Monica notes how relaxed and confident his features become when they are alone like this. The constant self-doubt in his eyes gone, he no longer stammers trying to say the perfect thing; it just easily rolls off his tongue. "I would drive more than ten hours for one night with you, Ms. Geller." Monica flashes a bashful grin. "I just feel bad that you have to go to work once we get back. I'll drive both ways so you can sleep on the ride home."

Monica leans in to give him another long kiss. She pulls back and begins to count off with her fingers as she lists all of her own preparations for the trip. "Okay, well I have a map, I highlighted several alternative routes, planned our one rest stop which is exactly three-hours and fifteen minutes into the trip, and I have a compass and a protractor."

Chandler smirks, "Okay Magellan. You know we aren't exploring the new world, right?"

Monica gives him a playful slap on his chest. "Shut up and kiss me again before I change my mind."

* * *

**Saturday – 7:30pm:** Monica and Chandler have been waiting for the rental company to call back ever since they got off the phone over an hour ago. They share a small, industrial sofa while they wait, Monica is laying across the three seats with her head in his lap. Chandler is biting his fingernails, nervous about the prospect of this entire trip crashing down around them. The snow outside has intensified causing both of them to worry if they will ever get out of this building, let alone into Vermont. A voice from behind the service counter calls out, "Bing?"

"That's me." Chandler lightly taps Monica on the shoulder, alerting her that he is getting up. They both make their way to the counter. "Hi, do you have an update?"

The man behind the counter looks at some paperwork on a clipboard. "The car you brought in is pretty much toast. Unfortunately, we don't have any vehicles from the rental company available here to sign out to you. They said they will try to get someone here with a car but, I gotta be honest, with the storm, it could be a couple of hours."

Monica huffs in frustration, "A couple of hours? It's already 7:30! Don't you have anything you can give us? A loaner we can bring back tomorrow. We're supposed to be in Vermont already, not in..." her eyes dart around, trying to figure out where they are until she looks at the sign over the counter, "Ticonderoga, New York!"

"We don't have anything. We can try to find you a cab, but I don't think they'll take you over state lines, and you'll probably be waiting just as long." He points over to the convenience store attached to the lobby of the repair shop. "You can help yourself to some coffee." Monica and Chandler look at each other, both conveying exasperation at their predicament.

* * *

**Saturday Morning – 10:00am:** Chandler opens his bag to put a few more pairs of clean socks in for the trip but hesitates when he realizes most of the clothes he had packed have been replaced. Everything is folded neatly and several items were now in labelled Ziplock bags. He lifts one up for inspection, "sweat socks" scrawled across it in Monica's handwriting. He laughs and shakes his head. "This woman is unbelievable."

* * *

**Saturday – 9:00pm:** Monica and Chandler are both sitting at a table, the store is darkened since half the overhead lights are off. The snow still falling precipitously. Monica folds her arms in disgust. "We're never getting out of here."

"I'm so sorry Mon. I feel like I ruined another weekend." Chandler reaches out for her hand, his eyes reflecting guilt.

Monica takes his hand into hers and leans over to plant a reassuring kiss on it. "Oh sweetie, it isn't your fault. Accidents happen. How about we look for some food? I'm starving and maybe it will get our mind off of everything."

Chandler nods and they stand up together, holding hands, and begin to look around the store. "Oh, look!" Chandler reaches into a refrigerated display and takes out a prepackaged California Roll. "You like this kind of stuff."

Monica raises a disapproving eyebrow. "Chandler. You never buy sushi at a gas station. Why don't you let me pick out some food and you can get us something to drink."

Chandler just glumly offers up a half-hearted, "Okay." and returns the package to the refrigerator. He looks around the store with a forlorn expression. Suddenly, his eyes go wide as if he has made a discovery and he tentatively begins to look up and down the other aisles in the store for supplies.

He grabs two flashlights, some batteries and an oil pan. He then makes his way to the drink station where he takes a couple of unused coffee cups. He approaches the drink dispenser, and uses the oil pan to push down the bar that releases ice cubes and fills it up about halfway. He carries everything over to the table they were sitting at, pulls out his duffel bag and begins to rummage around in it.

* * *

**Saturday Afternoon – 3:30pm:** Monica switches CDs in the car stereo, replacing the now finished Hootie & The Blowfish disc for Sheryll Crow. Once the music starts to play, she takes a small pen and pad out of her purse and crosses something off of it. Chandler looks over from the corner of his eye. "I had no idea you planned the music for the entire trip. Is that actually a list of the CDs you brought?"

Monica protests "Nooooo." But then quickly relents. "Okay, so maybe I made a list of the specific order that we should listen to my CDs in during the trip. If you want, maybe you can pick the next one."

Chandler, surprised by her offer, smiles. "What other CDs did you bring?"

"Well," Monica begins sheepishly, "maybe you don't pick one right now. I mean, this CD already started playing. You can't turn it off in the middle of the song."

Chandler just laughs, knowing all along she never intended to let him mess up the order she had already approved for the CDs. "Okay miss DJ. How about you tell me how far we are?"

Monica smiles, excited to break out her map and trace her fingers across the highlighted roads she had selected for their drive. "Well, we will be in New York for another hour and a half until we reach the state line."

"Sounds good." He chuckles again. "So, did you really repack my bag?"

Monica, begins folding the map back up and without breaking her concentration, nods and adopts a smug tone. "You had way too many pairs of socks in there, and those shirts. Trust me. My way was much better."

Chandler laughs again, admitting defeat. He then stops and squints his eyes as he looks at the road ahead. "Hey, what is this guy doing in front of us?"

The car in front of them begins to sway left to right, skidding on the road. It swings around enough to block two lanes of the highway. Chandler tries to avoid the car in front of them, but the ice causes them to slide across the road as well, until they crash into a nearby snowdrift, crumpling the front against a guardrail buried underneath the snow.

He quickly shifts the car into park and looks over towards Monica. "Oh my god, are you okay?"

Monica takes a minute to catch her breath, adrenaline already taking over her body. "I'm okay, are you okay?"

"Chandler disengages his seatbelt and brings his hands up to hold her face. "Yes, yes, but don't worry about me. Are you sure you're okay?"

She takes this opportunity to give him a reassuring kiss. "Yes, I'm sure. What happened."

Chandler leans back in the driver seat and puts his hand on his forehead, running it down half of his face in disbelief. "The car just started to skid and fishtail. I tried to avoid him but I guess I made a mess of it. I'm sorry."

Monica reaches over and runs her hand through his hair gently. "Chandler, it's okay. It isn't your fault. Look, some people are already slowing down. I'm sure someone will help us."

Chandler smacks the steering wheel out of frustration. "What a way to ruin our weekend."

Monica takes his hand and places it in her lap, holding him steady. "Our weekend isn't ruined. Before we know it we will be eating our dinner by candle light, watching the snow come down outside our room. Nothing is ruined."

* * *

**Saturday: 9:30pm:** Monica walks back to the seating area in the convenience store where she knew Chandler would be waiting. She found some prepackaged raw vegetables and broke them up into small pieces, adding them to the two Cup of Noodles containers that she had already heated up. She found a box of Ritz crackers and some string cheese, and, using a plastic knife, created a makeshift cheese platter.

As she turned the corner, she saw Chandler sitting at a table, he had placed one of his white t-shirts over it to mimic a table cloth. Near the middle were two flashlights, standing up, looking like two makeshift candles. She continued to survey his work, noticing a plastic tub filled with ice that contained a bottle of champagne.

"Milady." Chandler stood up and pulled her chair with one hand, taking the tray of food from her and placing it on the table with the other. Monica giggled at the effort. Once she was comfortably seated, he pushed her chair in. "Well, I know it isn't as pretty as the brochure, but there is snow outside, and here we are, ready to eat this delicious meal you prepared, drink this fine champagne I brought for us, and, if I run my fingers over these flashlights it almost looks like they are candles flickering." He began to slowly hover his hand over the light to try and create the desired effect.

She takes his hand into hers. "Chandler, stop, it is fine. This is amazing. I can't think of a better way to be trapped in a twenty-four-hour convenience store, somewhere in upstate New York, than this." They smile at each other; their eyes sparkling a bit in the glow of the flashlights. They lean in over the table and share a tender kiss.


	9. Breaking Resolutions

**Breaking Resolutions**

Chandler was walking briskly towards 90 Bedford Street after leaving Joey, Phoebe, and their "guitar lesson" behind at Central Perk. It took all of his willpower not to blurt out some sardonic witticism once Phoebe started listing her alternative names for musical chords. To his credit, he tried to hang around and act like everything was "regular", but soon enough, he found himself struggling against his own nature, and not too long after they started, he acknowledged internally that he could not contain himself anymore. He had to get out of there before the impulse to make a joke overcame him. He jumped up from the couch and left without even saying goodbye. Fearful that, if he tried to utter even the most innocuous of words, it would come out dripping with sarcasm. He was determined not to slip up and let Ross win their bet. Which would result in making Chandler fifty dollars poorer, and even worse, he would have to deal with a boastful, arrogant Ross Geller. If there was one thing the Geller siblings had in common, they liked to win and they liked to gloat.

Once he was safely inside the lobby of his building, he exhaled out a loud "Hornswoggle!" as if it were some profane expression of his overall frustration. He made his way up the stairs, and as soon as he reached his floor and saw the door to his apartment, he forgot all about Ross' challenge and allowed a goofy grin to spread across his lips. It was New Year's Day and everyone was gone, not returning until late in the evening at the earliest. This meant that he and Monica could spend all day together with no restrictions. It would be like that first week back from London all over again.

Chandler knew that, after their "lesson", Joey was going to hop on the subway and travel into Queens to see his family. The Tribbianis always had a large, traditional Italian-American feast on New Year's Day, and Joey could be counted on to spend most of that day and night overindulging on food; if they were lucky, he would gorge himself into a stupor, spending the night at his family home. Phoebe was planning on visiting her brother and the triplets, which could be an all-day affair, unless the babies became too much for her to handle and she bailed early. Chandler and Monica were certain that even if that had happened, she would just go back to her own apartment for the rest of the night.

Ross was on his way to pick up Ben from Carol and Susan. Shortly after that he would be on his way to Penn Station to catch a train to Long Island. Ever since Ross moved in with Chandler and Joey, whenever he had Ben, he would take him to spend the night at his parents. They loved seeing their grandson and there wasn't enough room at the apartment for all four of them to spend the night. Rachel planned on meeting Ross at the train station and they were all going to ride in together, since she was also going in to see her parents. It is the first time Chandler was thankful for a divorce, even though it made him feel guilty, because it meant that Rachel would be on the island all day, splitting time between both her mother and father.

On a normal New Year's Day, Chandler would hang out with Joey and his family, but ever since he hooked up with Joey's sister, Mary Angela, to disastrous results, he no longer felt comfortable being there. Not that it mattered now that he and Monica were seeing each other. Even if there was no tension between him and the Tribbiani sisters, he would rather spend the day at home with Monica than in Queens stuffing himself with pasta, fried meat and cheese.

Monica herself would probably have gone to Long Island with Ross. Even though it would have meant listening to her mother carp about only having one grandchild. She would have endured all of the passive-aggressive jabs just to spend time with her nephew. Yet, with everyone busy for the day, Monica knew this was a golden opportunity for her and Chandler to be alone with practically no interruptions.

They devised the plan last week right after Christmas. Monica told everyone she had to work. They laughed when Chandler realized he didn't have to make up any kind of story for himself, since staying home all-day, watching TV, was what everyone figured he was going to be doing anyway. They agreed to meet in his room since they surmised that the first one back would probably be Rachel, and even if Joey came back first, he already knew about them. With Ross definitely out of the picture until tomorrow afternoon, Chandler's apartment made the most sense.

As Chandler approached, he could already hear someone moving around inside the apartment, which intensified his excitement. He rapped his knuckles on the door as he went to turn the knob, offering an animated tone in his voice, "Hello, is anybody home?"

"Don't come in! Give me two minutes and then meet me in your room." Monica shouted through the closed door. Chandler became giddy, rubbing the palms of his hands together. If she was making him wait in the hallway, then she must have something really special planned. Visions of her in various different alluring outfits began to dance around his head. It didn't matter how many times he got to see Monica in some slinky, sexy negligée, his excitement to see her naked never seems to diminish. "Okay, come in!" He looked down and smiled before opening the door. Only Monica could be loud enough that her voice could be heard all the way from his bedroom, through the heavy apartment door and into the hallway.

He walked in and scanned the room for any clues that would inform him of what to expect from her. He closed the door, locked it, and dropped his keys into the small bowl on the counter. He could already tell she spent time straightening up the apartment, even though they had discussed how she shouldn't because if his place looked too clean it would appear suspicious. He also knows, when it comes to an unkempt environment, Monica can't help herself. The sink was empty of all dirty dishes and he could swear, the faucet was practically shining. The blanket on the back of the couch was not only folded neatly, but looked to be perfectly placed so that it was symmetrical with either side. The floor in the kitchen didn't have its usual sticky consistency, which was a result of all the food and drinks Joey would consume as he was standing in front of the refrigerator with the door open.

He tossed his coat over the back of his Barcalounger and rolled his eyes as he noticed the bathroom door closed; the chick and duck relegated to exile from the rest of the apartment whenever Monica was over never ceased to confound him.

As he approached his bedroom door, he prepared to say something about the spotless state of the apartment. Try to explain again how everything being so clean was a dead giveaway of her presence there today, but all thoughts of maintaining their secret escaped from his head as he became enveloped in the her familiar smell that was lingering there. The aroma of the soap she uses, the lotion, the faint hint of perfume that she would put behind her ears; all of the delightful scents that belonged to Monica practically reaching its tendrils through his nostrils and carrying him into his bedroom. He swung the door open triumphantly, ready to drink in her form with his eyes, only to stop dead in his tracks, mouth gaped wide open as he looked at Monica, who was seated on the bed. "Monica, what are you wearing."

Monica began to sway seductively on her hips. "What, this old thing?" She proudly displayed her outfit. Rain boots, rubbery yellow rain coat with a black oversized buckle keeping it closed, umbrella over her shoulder and a bucket hat that looked two sizes too big on her head. "don't you like it?"

"You look ridiculous. I mean…" Chandler stops himself before he can finish the cutting remark already formulating in his head. His eyes widen with discovery as he begins to frantically point at her, hopping from one foot to the other. "Wait a minute. Are you trying to get me to make fun of you?" his voice expressing shock and betrayal. "You are! You're trying to get me to break my resolution!"

"What? Nooooo! I always found rain gear sexual. Haven't you?" She attempts to run her hand down her arm, but the rubber from the raincoat sleeve makes it impossible to do in a smooth and seductive manner. The friction from the movement releasing into the air a tiny, almost inaudible squeak as she tries. She flops her hands down to her sides, dropping the umbrella in frustration. "Okay, fine. Ross said he would split the fifty bucks with me if I got you to break."

Chandler begins to protest silently but then calms down and smiles. "You understand, that if you get me to break, you wouldn't be able to tell anyone, right? What would you say? 'Oh hey? I got Chandler to make fun of me when I tried to seduce him.' I don't think anyone would care about me making a joke after that little reveal."

Monica looks down and tugs a bit on the sleeves of her jacket. "Crap! I didn't think of that."

Chandler, seeing an opportunity to push her over the edge decides to egg her on. "Plus I could make you break long before you could make me break."

Monica turns her gaze to him, as her face twists into an expression of indignation. Her tone becomes forceful and defiant. "What? You think I couldn't make you break?"

Chandler, not normally enticed to engage in competition with anyone, especially Monica, realizes that he may have been handed a golden opportunity to ensure today's sexual activities are legendary. "Monica, I'm sorry, but you are just too hot to make me crack. I'd win hands down." He knew he had her.

Monica jumps up to her knees with renewed vigor. "You are so on mister! First one who can't resist making fun of the other loses. What are we playing for? One hundred dollars? Five hundred dollars?"

Chandler tilts his head incredulously, "Woah there Rockefeller. How about we just play for honor?"

Monica folds her arms defiantly. "Honor, schmonor. What are you? Too chicken to put your money where your mouth is?"

Chandler smiles. His trap sprung. "Okay then. Let's say you win, and I will do whatever you want in bed."

Monica scoffs. "I already get that."

Chandler looks off, rubs his chin and nods. "Yeah, you're right about that. Okay. I'll let you reorganize my closet and throw out any of my clothes you don't like."

Monica's eyes lit up. "Ohhhh! You are on. I am going to replace so many of your tacky shirts. Not that it matters, since I'm going to win, but what do you get if you win?"

Chandler just smiles wryly. "Oh, sex on the balcony of course." Monica smirks and raises her eyebrows in suspicious admonishment while shaking her head.

Chandler, never really left wanting for anything from their highly rewarding sex life, has been harboring the desire to have sex on the balcony ever since they began their relationship. Almost as if he wanted to put his own stamp and possessively dominate her sexual history, up to and including her one-time fling with Fun Bobby on the terrace. He smiled and laughed like a child on Christmas morning, ran over to his dresser and frantically pulled out some clothes. "Okay, I'll be right back."

As he slips out of the bedroom, Monica waits, impatiently on his bed, and, if she were being honest, quite uncomfortably too. She hadn't thought about how restrictive a rain coat in bed would be. Abruptly, the door opens up and Chandler stands in the frame. Monica looks up, her eyes widen, her jaw drops. An outdated and ugly Starter brand windbreaker would have been ridiculous enough (and was already on her list of clothes to remove from his possession once she had won their little competition) but, somehow, Chandler managed to step into a turtleneck sweater, which now operated as a pair of pants. His legs stretching the fabric of the sleeves and the oversized collar dangling ridiculously between his legs. He bends his legs slightly at the knees and begins to rapidly move side-to-side, taking tiny steps while shouting. "Can't touch this."

Monica covers her mouth with her hand to suppress laughter. "What are you doing?"

He stops moving and looks over at her, shocked that she hasn't figured out the obvious reference. "The MC Hammer dance, of course."

Her eyes widen as she tries to fight off an amused smile. "Okay, well." She holds in another laugh, "I think you look sexy."

"Oh really, even if I do this." He begins to sway his hips back and forth, causing the collar of the turtleneck to flop around between his legs in a cartoonish manner.

"Of course. That neck hole is just easy access." Monica gets up off the bed in a hurried pace, darts past Chandler, out of the bedroom, and eventually across the hall into her own apartment. Chandler, deciding to get comfortable, changes into a grey t-shirt and boxers and then lies on the bed, waiting for her to return.

A few minutes go by until he finally hears the front door to his apartment open, signaling her return. Monica reaches his closed bedroom door. "Okay, are you ready for me tiger?" She swings the door open slowly and before stepping into view, wraps one of her bare legs around the door frame. Slowly curling it up and down as if commencing a burlesque performance. She puts her foot down and walks into the bedroom. Chandler's smile quickly turns into an expression of shock and horror. There stood Monica, in an oversized, ankle long shirt. Air-brushed, giant, crooked eyes just below her collar. Attached below them, what could only be described as an elephant trunk made of fabric, tightly sewn to the garment. Two pillow-like lips, made of black and purple felt, stuffed and hanging from her abdomen. It was a Salvador Dali, three-dimensional fever dream brought to life. A monster that could only appear in the most gruesome of horror films or the darkest of nightmares. "What…What is that?" is all Chandler could say.

"Oh this? Just an original Buffay. When Phoebe and I lived together, she started to design evening wear. For that woman who wants to seduce her man and give him night terrors." Monica, displays herself proudly before him, certain he will have to say something.

Chandler's bottom lip begins to tremble as he tries to stifle uncontrollable laughter. He bites down on the inside of his cheek, before erupting, he lifts a pillow up to his face to cover it.

Monica stands triumphantly. "Ah ha! You lose sucker!"

"I didn't lose. No one said you couldn't laugh. That wasn't part of the deal." Monica looked off to the side, her lips curling in frustration. "The bet was about making a joke. Anyway, it's my turn." Chandler got up as fast as he could from the bed, before Monica could come up with some technicality that declared he lost this little competition. He escapes out of the room as Monica begins to slide the garish shirt off of her body, grabbing one of Chandler's from the dresser to wear instead.

She crooks her head as she can hear him rustling around in Joey's room. A few minutes go by until he finally returns. Wearing a tight green spandex shirt, green tights, and on his head, what appears to be makeshift antennae with two oversized googly eyes on the ends. "Well hello, want to find out how easy it is being green?"

Monica, tries to stifle a laugh, holding her mouth closed with her hand and turning away. "What. Is. That!"

Chandler leans against the door-frame, folding his arms. "Well, this is Joey's costume from an off-off-off Broadway play he did. He was cast as a frog. For some reason, he kept saying "ribbon, ribbon" instead of "ribbit, ribbit". He ended up being recast as a lily pad or something."

Monica lets out a sympathetic laugh. "Oh my god, that's ridiculous."

Chandler points at her. "Aha! You just said my outfit is ridiculous. I win, you lose."

"No, I said the story about the play was ridiculous. I didn't know we could raid Joey's closet!" She slides off the bed, pushes past Chandler and makes her way into the other bedroom. She begins to slide the clothes in Joey's wardrobe from one end to the other. Costumes and outfits from plays and TV shows bunched together. Slipping her fingers through each one, looking for something ridiculous to wear.

The next hour goes by quickly, as they both take turns, leaving and reentering Chandler's bedroom in different costumes. A 1930s Chicago-style gangster, a beatnik poet, Shakespearean garb, a bloodied airline pilot, Pinocchio, a porno TV repairman. Chandler found that he could fit decently in Joey's clothes but Monica had to be more creative, cinching shirts around her waist or folding up pants and holding them up with her hands. As the options in Joey's wardrobe began to dwindle, they each became more desperate to win. Monica was sure she would get Chandler to break once she came in wearing a Sigmund Freud beard, but was unsuccessful. It seemed both of them forgot their original plans to fill the afternoon with sex and lost themselves in the unabashed ridiculous nature of their game. Reveling in silliness.

Chandler approaches Joey's closet and reaches in to grab one last costume. He sighs, and drops his head down in defeat. _"There is no way I can put this on." _He backs away from the closet, ready to forfeit his claim. _"C'mon Bing. Man-up! This is sex on the balcony we are talking about!" _He snatches the last outfit from its hanger and attempts to figure out how exactly he is supposed to wear it.

Monica, finds herself once again impatiently sitting on the bed. Tapping her fingers on her knee. Suddenly, Chandler's voice carries from outside of the room. "Okay. I got it. I know I am going to win now. This one is foolproof. Just, you have to promise not to tell anyone."

Enticed by this new stipulation, Monica perks up. "What?"

His shaky voice implores again, "You have to promise!"

Monica just shrugs her shoulders. "Fine. I promise."

Chandler steps into the room, wearing a large, oversized, stretched out, woman's nightgown. Monica can't contain herself seeing him dressed in this a very ugly and unflattering one piece. His masculine frame ridiculously contrasted with the delicate lace. "What. Is. That." She says choking down laughter. "You look ridiculous!"

"Well, Joey had to play a sorority sister in some play or acting class. All the men dressed like this and all the women were frat boys." Chandler looks down, not able to make eye contact. "I promised I'd never tell anyone about this, so please keep it quiet. He'd kill me if anyone knew."

Monica finally can no longer hold in her amusement. She began to laugh uncontrollably. Doubling over as tears stream down her face. "You look like Klinger from M.A.S.H! Only with less hair."

Chandler, still embarrassed by the length he went to offers up a less than enthusiastic. "I win. You lose."

Monica, still laughing, just smiles sweetly at Chandler while she wipes away another tear. "Okay, but wait. You have to give me one more shot. I get last licks!"

Chandler, already stripping off the offending article of clothing and slipping his t-shirt back on looks over at her incredulously. "Wait, we didn't agree to that! Don't try to back out now!"

Monica slides off the bed again, slinks over to him, and plants a tender kiss on his cheek. "Look, last one. If you don't have a reaction, then fine. We have sex on the balcony."

Chandler purses his lips, confident in his victory. "Okay. Fine"

Monica skips out of his room and exits the apartment. Chandler positions himself back on the bed. Tossing his last outfit out the door, as if to protect himself from some sort of cross dressing contamination. He hears the door open once more and looks up as Monica enters his room, wrapped tightly in a robe. She offers a sly smile and seductively inquires "Ready?"

Chandler, prepared for another ridiculous ensemble nods. In one deft move, Monica loosens the sash and drops her robe to the floor, revealing a thin, see-through red and black negligée. She leans up against the doorway, practically exposing every inch of her body underneath the sheer garment. Chandler's mouth opens wide as arousal overtakes him. Monica saunters over towards him. "Maybe we can check with the judges and see if this counts as a reaction to my outfit." She starts to run her hand up Chandler's leg as she climbs into bed. "Maybe we should declare a new winner. Unless you want me to go."

Chandler, now forgetting everything that had just occurred over the last sixty minutes, slowly nods, not able to take his eyes off of her as her body sinks on top of him. "Sure. Okay. Whatever you say. You win."

Monica whispers a victorious "Yes" and wraps her arms around his neck as she fuses her body to his. They begin to share a passionate kiss. Leaving behind the absurdity of the previous hour and embracing the heated intimacy to come.

* * *

Joey is already in a bad mood as he becomes even more frustrated trying to fish his keys out of his pocket. All he wants to do is enter his own apartment and sit in his chair. After dinner, he took the long subway ride back into Manhattan just so he could digest comfortably in the arms of Rosita. It seemed to make sense to leave his parent's house and go home up until he saw how crowded the No. 7 train was. After several delays in his ride and by the time he got to his apartment, he was no longer experiencing that post-meal sedated euphoria that was commonplace for him on New Year's Day. Now, becoming even further disappointed, he comes home to find the door locked and has to search every pocket for the keys.

He finally gets the door opened and flips the light switch as he tosses his keys over to the counter. He opens the refrigerator and pulls out a carton of milk. As he begins to drink down from the spout, he looks out over towards the living room lovingly at his chair until he catches a glimpse of what appears to be his clothes, discarded and stretched on the floor between his room and Chandler's. He moves quickly through the room to pick them up, inspecting them as if looking for some sign of damage. "Why are all my costumes out here?' He looks down, right in front of Chandler's door, lies the most offensive of transgressions. The secret black teddy. As he rushed over to pick it up he could hear Monica and Chandler giggling from inside the bedroom.

He begins to knock demandingly on the door. "You better be decent! I'm coming in!" He swings Chandler's door open, in one hand a carton of milk, in the other, the lacy, large, black nightie. "What the hell is going on here! My clothes are all over the place! And what about this!" He swings the offending garment towards them. "Dude! You promised!"

Monica and Chandler try to hold it together long enough to calm their friend, but they lose control and crumble against each other, arms wrapping around their partner, and laugh uncontrollably. Joey, looking shocked, and not sure what to do, slowly smiles and joins them in laughing, even though he doesn't know why.


	10. Monica & Chandler's Gift of the Magi 1

**Monica and Chandler's Gift of the Magi Vol. 1**

"So, uh, why did you do that?" Chandler and Monica had been walking back from his Boss' apartment in relative silence until he asked her this question. Ever since Doug started serving coffee, Chandler had been replaying the events that had occurred at the end of the meal, over and over, in his head. Once they left, he was trying to figure out when it would be the perfect time to say something and what it was that he was supposed to say. "Why did you decide to go along and laugh at his joke? I thought you hated the work laugh."

Monica tightens her grip on Chandler's arm and takes a deep breath. She could tell he was tense and pensive ever since they left Doug's place, but until now she wasn't sure why. "I guess I didn't realize how your boss would react when you didn't laugh at one of his jokes. He seemed to get really bothered by it and I didn't want to make things difficult for you at your job. In the grand scheme of things, me not liking how you act around him isn't as big of a deal as you doing well at work. Why did you stop with the work laugh tonight in the middle of dinner?"

"I did it for you." Now it was Monica's turn to tense up. She knew she might have been overcritical of how Chandler acted around his boss, but she didn't expect him to jeopardize his work relationships for her. "After what you said at dinner, I guess it made me realize that I'd rather make you happy."

Monica leans her head on his arm and smiles. "That's sweet."

Chandler stumbles a bit on his words. "Well, you never said that to me before."

"What? That I respect you?" She lets out a short laugh.

Chandler's body stiffens up and his breath shortens. She can feel him exhale as if he were about to make a confession. "No, no. Not that. You called me your boyfriend. That's the first time you said that."

Monica goes quiet for a moment and looks down at the street. _"Oh no, I wasn't even thinking. It just came out. I don't want to pressure him. How do I tell him that it doesn't mean he has to call me his girlfriend. I don't want him to get spooked that maybe we're going too fast."_

"I guess it made me realize, you're my girlfriend. So, if something I am doing is bothering you, then I want to make sure I don't do that anymore."

Monica can't help but smile at the sentiment even though she can tell by Chandler's tone that he is nervous. She can only assume it is because he isn't sure what she is going to say. Still harboring trepidations from his Thanksgiving outburst. "Well, we have been dating for over four months. What else should I call you?" She squeezes his arm a little tighter. _"What do you think we are doing? Of course, you're my boyfriend. I love you." _She doesn't give these thoughts a voice. Instead, she just looks up at him again. "Is that okay with you?"

"Of course, it is. I know it's stupid for me not to have thought about it before. I guess I wasn't sure where we were. We haven't really used any kind of labels or anything or really talked about them. Dammit. I feel like I sound like a teenager." Chandler takes her hand in his and interlocks their fingers. "Anyway, when you told me how you didn't want to hang out with 'work Chandler', well, then it isn't really worth being him. I don't want to be that guy. I want to be the guy who is your boyfriend. The guy you respect. The guy you want to be around. If it means work is a little awkward, then that's okay."

Monica, still smiling, "That's so sweet." She felt a tear start to form in the corner of her eye but quickly wiped it away with her free hand. She tries to keep herself calm but this euphoric feeling mixed with anxiety was washing over her. She looks over and makes eye contact with him and flashes a reassuring smile, but when she looks down again, her mind starts racing.

Chandler had done something that no other man she had ever dated for this long had done. He changed. In the amount of time it took his boss to walk into the kitchen and bring out coffee, Chandler listened to what she said, evaluated his own behavior, and voluntarily changed it. He grew as a person in a matter of minutes, for her. He did it all without some long, awkward conversation about her wants and needs versus his own. He just did it._ "I couldn't even talk Pete out of getting his ass kicked in the octagon for me. And that was just for his own well being." _

Even Richard, who she uses as a measuring stick to compare all other men against, only reluctantly agreed to consider having kids. _"If I have to." _The man, who was the great love of her life, didn't really change or grow, he just begrudgingly decided that he would have another child before he lost her. A scenario no child should be born into. Monica looks up again at Chandler. _"Maybe I've been using the wrong measuring stick."_

Monica realized at that moment; her adult relationship was now a **R**elationship with a capital **R**. All because she absentmindedly called Chandler her boyfriend. "Well, I'm glad we worked that out."

Chandler leaned over and kissed her on the head. "Me too. There's probably some other stuff we need to work out."

"_Other stuff? What other stuff?"_ Monica furrows her brow and she tries to figure out what he means by that. She looks around. It's a beautiful night. Crisp January air, the skyline of Manhattan glowing all around them. The sky is clear and even in the city, she can make out the stars in the sky. _"Is this where he finally does it? Is that all it took. I call him my boyfriend and now he tells me he loves me, then I say it back and we always remember the gorgeous backdrop of the night we shared our true feelings with each other? We declare our love surrounded by the people of New York City! Then, maybe we go home and tell the others all about us." _

Chandler can feel Monica's grip on his hand becoming tighter. _"God, she is freakishly strong."_ He tries to wriggle his hand to at least cause her to loosen her hold, which he succeeds at slightly. He looks down at her and her eyes are open wide which causes him to worry a bit that she's gone somewhere in her own head.

He does feel some comfort when he notices that she has a genuine smile on her face. Chandler could always tell when Monica was really smiling and when she was just putting forward a good face. When she was really happy her nose would crinkle up. _"Okay, at least she is happy. All right Bing. Don't push too much. You don't want to force anything and make things weird. She's your girlfriend. That should be enough. You already blurted out that you love her at the worst time and she didn't say it back. Just play it cool."_

As they continue to walk through Greenwich Village, Chandler marvels at how quickly Monica changed her mind, and decided to bail him out with Doug. In all the time that he had known her, once she set her mind to something, it never wavered. Yet, when she saw what her stance on his work laugh was potentially putting him through, she abandoned her convictions for him. "So, we can make this the last work thing you have to go to."

"That's okay. Just maybe we take a break from Doug. I understand you want to get in good with your boss, I just don't know if I want to. He is kind of a jerk."

Chandler laughs, "Yeah, he does tend to rub people the wrong way. Thanks again for tonight. You're really something special."

"I know!" Monica sways their hands back and forth as she giggles. "So, is there anything else you want to talk about?" She looks up at him again.

Chandler hesitates for a moment. _"Is there anything you want to talk about?"_ He smiles at her, "Just that I'm really happy. And cold. Maybe we can hurry up and get back home."


	11. How Do You Solve A Problem Like Rachel

**How Do You Solve A Problem Like Rachel?**

Chandler had fallen asleep much earlier tonight than he usually does when Monica stays over. As she watched him sleep, she realized that she couldn't blame him. It was a long night, and she was also very tired. She was forcing herself to stay awake even though she desperately wanted to fall asleep beside him. It didn't help that, since they have been together, Monica found she only truly feels comfortable at night when she is lying next to him in bed. Unfortunately, staying over at his apartment until early tomorrow morning was no longer an option.

Ever since Rachel surprised them in his apartment, she knew she couldn't fall asleep. Yet, as she lay there watching him breathe, all she wanted to do was rest her head on his chest, stretch her leg over his, run her hand across his waist, and close her eyes. Everything about this moment was inviting her to do just that. His body was radiating warmth. His scent, that she has learned to crave, was soothing and familiar. She was even beginning to feel the post-coital somnolence that can, at times, overwhelm her. It was so tempting to fall asleep and enjoy a few peaceful hours in the arms of her boyfriend; but now, thanks to Rachel, she couldn't.

It is not entirely Rachel's fault that they haven't been able to spend the early morning hours together like they used to. Now that Ross was staying with Chandler and Joey, their entire routine was in upheaval. It had become much more difficult to arrange a late-night rendezvous in one of their apartments. It would be hard to show up at 2am, dressed in only a robe, when your big brother was sleeping on the couch. Thanks to these new living arrangements, she and Chandler have had to become more creative when trying to be together.

Tonight though, was supposed to be different. Ross was spending the weekend over at her parent's house on Long Island and she told Rachel she was working at the restaurant tonight. It was the perfect cover, since Monica would normally come home from her job after Rachel had already gone to sleep. They really only had to deal with Joey, who already knew about them, but didn't want to really know about them. That odd paradox just meant staying in Chandler's room and trying to be as quiet as they can. They had it all planned out. It would be just like the first week after they got back from London. They would fall asleep together, in each other's arms, and early in the morning she would sneak back to her own apartment before anyone else was awake.

Their plan seemed to get knocked off the rails from the very start. Instead of having one night where they could travel backwards and conjure up the experience of those first few days together, they were thrust forward, and now, her mind was only on the days ahead. The changes that were inevitably on the horizon. She knew, they couldn't go back to where they were at the start, and they couldn't stay in this moment forever. Their relationship had its own agenda, and it reared its head to nudge them further along in the form of her roommate.

Monica let her mind run through everything that happened tonight. First, they had dinner with Doug and Kara, which seemed to go on forever. _"Who serves cordials and coffee an hour apart?" _It was a very "couple" thing to do. It wasn't sex in a supply closet, or sneaking him into her bedroom at night like a teenager past curfew. It was something that people in a mature, committed relationship do, yet it was also something, that until this week, they hadn't done.. Have dinner with an older married couple from his job. And, despite how terrible she thought Doug was, it came to them naturally.

Then they decided to walk home, which led to them talking about their relationship, and her realizing she called him her boyfriend for the first time. That conversation continued when they got back to his apartment, and settled into Chandler's bedroom for the night. Most nights, when they talked, it was about everything but their relationship. Yet, that entire evening, they spoke about it. They still used a form of protective, coded words. Tap dancing around specific terms. Neither one wanting to push too far or overstep whatever boundary they perceived to be there. They were also wary of bringing too much of their outside world in on top of them before it was all figured out. _"How can we explain what we are doing to our friends if we can't even really explain it to each other?" _But still, they talked. Like a real couple working out what was next.

As they spoke, she studied his face for any sign that he was ready to acknowledge what she already knew, that they were in love. That this was the best thing to happen to either of them in a long time. That this thing they were doing, had the potential to become more than either of them had originally thought. These are the things she really wanted to talk to him about, but knew she couldn't. Not yet. Maybe not for a long time. Oddly enough, she was prepared to wait. That nagging instinct to constantly analyze where a relationship was going, to tick off all the boxes she had on the checklist in her head, was overcome by her concern for his comfort. Knowing he was someone who needed to move forward at his own pace.

She could see the changes in him already; his demeanor, his confidence, his comfort level, were all already light years beyond anything he had ever exhibited when they were just friends. The anxiety that always seemed to be present was gone. The way his face would become still, and his eyes would narrow and he would look at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. In these intimate moments, when they were alone, he was a different man than the one she met all those years ago. The jokes, the sarcasm, the nervousness, it all melted away from him, leaving this strong, secure, and sexy man who seemed perfectly capable of being in a relationship.

She knew she was changing as well. She was never this comfortable with herself before. All the overanalyzing and self-doubts were mostly gone and she felt free to be whatever version of herself she wanted to be. She was smiling all the time and she felt unabashedly happy. She never felt this way before with any man. Even when she was with Richard. When they were at their best, as close as she thought two people could be, she still had her guard up. She was still holding back some parts of herself so she didn't scare him off. She never got the chance to show him her crazy competitive side. Richard didn't get to know that girl who dove in a lake to fetch a homemade trophy because winning was that important to her. Not only winning, but being recognized as the winner was like a drug to her. How obsessed she could get with being the best at everything. They barely scratched the surface of who that girl was before they fell apart.

Chandler already knows that girl. He knows all of her quirks. All of her obsessions. All her failures and all her fears. Unlike the other men she had been with, she doesn't have to hide anything, slowly revealing her true self in small doses, easing him into her strange little world, and that freedom to be herself completely from the very start of their relationship has been intoxicating.

So, they talked tonight about everything, but ultimately said nothing. When they got to the point of the evening where they were undressing, she decided they were not ready to tell the others about their relationship. _"I am not going to go through the entire ordeal of coming out to our friends until we tell each other exactly how we feel."_ As far as she was concerned, if there isn't some acknowledgment between the two of them about what they were now, then she will not change her mind. Even though she ached to release all of these emotions and relieve the tension that holding them in was starting to create, she knew Chandler too well. She knew she could not be the one to take that step. Whatever his issues with commitment and relationships were, she at least knew that they meant that he had to do it first.

Maybe tonight would have been that night, they were skating right at the edge, and she could swear he was close to at least broaching the subject of how they feel, but then Rachel showed up, and the entire mood shifted. She doesn't even know why she ran out into the living room first. She expected to see Joey in some state of disarray, something broken or some mess made, but instead, it was Rachel. _"What was she doing here? We have plenty of lamps." _

Monica thought she threw her off the scent with her "Mr. Bigot" cover earlier today. It wasn't her best lie, but it was all she could come up with on the spot when Rachel confronted her about overhearing them on the phone. Part of her actually thought about finally confiding in her best friend at that moment. Swearing her to secrecy and getting to share this wonderful thing she stumbled onto with someone who knows them both so well. But she couldn't betray Chandler, not even for Rachel.

It was when she finally got around to telling Chandler about "Mr. Bigot" that they heard the crash. Before she even thought about what she was doing, Monica was out the door. Half-dressed, and dumbstruck as to how to explain herself. And although, when the dust settled, and Chandler seemed to be convinced Rachel bought her story about cleaning his room for money, Monica was not so sure. The hug they shared after felt too intense, Rachel's voice cracked just enough to raise suspicion. Monica knew, she had to be more careful, and she had to keep an eye on her roommate. If Rachel knew before Monica could at least confront her about it, soon enough, then everyone would know.

And now, because Rachel was there, and saw Monica in Chandler's bedroom, there was no way she could stay over all night and keep up the pretense that she was there solely to clean. Monica had to keep up the appearance that her ridiculous story was true, even if she was suspicious about whether it actually worked. When they went back into his room, she practically jumped him immediately. Maybe it was the rush of almost getting caught, maybe it was because she already figured out how much time she had before she needed to be back in her own apartment, or maybe it was to distract Chandler from thinking about how much Rachel actually knows. When they were finished with their lovemaking, she was content to lay there in silence, and before she knew it, he was asleep and she was wondering when she had to leave.

* * *

Rachel walked back into her apartment slowly, with the lamp in her hands. Joey turned around to face her from his seated position on the couch. "Hey, so, did you say something to them?"

"No." Rachel pauses for a moment, "I guess I realized, if I busted in on them and they were doing it, I might see Chandler naked. Nobody wants that." Joey frowns at the image and then nods in agreement. Rachel puts the lamp down on the kitchen table, walks over to sit in the chair and pulls her feet up. They sit together in silence for what feels like a long time. as Joey reads his comic book and Rachel looks off to the side, trying to make sense of what is going on with her best friend. "Joe? Can I ask you something?"

"Sure Rach."

"When you found out about them, were you mad about the lying? Chandler is your best friend, but he still lied to you. Doesn't that bother you?"

Joey put his comic book down and looked up reflectively. "Well Rach, I guess not. I don't know. I figure, if he was hiding it from me, he must have a good reason. He wouldn't want to hurt my feelings on purpose."

"Yeah, I guess I can get that." Rachel leans forward and starts to play with her hair. "If you didn't figure it out, do you think he would have told you by now?"

"I don't know. I'd hope so, but if he didn't, I'd like to think he would have at least thought about it."

"Yeah." Rachel sits back again and starts to bite on one of her fingernails. "I just feel like if they told us, as their best friends, we could help them. They're both so bad at relationships."

Joey stretches his arms out over the back of the couch. "Maybe they're not telling us to keep it from getting weird if they decide to stop doing it. Like, when you and Ross broke up, we were all kind of caught in the middle of the two of you. Remember the ski trip? That was so uncomfortable. So, maybe they don't want to put us through that."

Rachel sits back. "Hmm. Maybe. Monica just doesn't seem like the kind of person who would just be 'doing it'. If this has been going on since London, they must be at least thinking about dating." She lets out a frustrated huff. "I just wish she'd tell me."

Joey gets up from the couch and makes his way to the refrigerator. "I wish they'd tell everybody. I hate having to keep someone else's secret. It's too much pressure." He takes out a bottle of water and turns towards the kitchen table. "Hey, that lamp looks so familiar."

Rachel claps her hands together. "Joey! Focus! I think you need to tell me everything you know again."

"Oh, come on Rach! I told you everything I know, and I don't know anything. This is worse than sitting in my room having to hear them go at it!"

Just then the door to the apartment swings open as Monica enters the room. "Oh, hey Joey. Hey Rach." She points to the table as she takes off her coat. "I thought you were borrowing this lamp to read?"

Joey's face lights up. "I knew I knew that lamp!"

Rachel eyes bulge slightly and she bites her lower lip. "Oh yeah. Well, Joey was here and he needed to talk." She looks over at Joey.

"Oh, yeah, right. I had to talk to her about a girl I'm seeing."

Rachel nods. "Yes! A girl he is seeing."

Monica smiles. "That's great Joe. Tell me about her."

Joey's face freezes for a moment and he searches his mind to say something. Rachel speaks up. "Oh well, it wasn't about the girl. It was about Joe." Monica turns to face Rachel and Joey flashes her a worried look. "Yeah, Joe had, a uh, a guy problem. He just wanted to ask me if I would be okay with that if a guy ever had that problem with me."

Monica turns to Joe who quickly changes his expression from anger at Rachel to sheepish embarrassment, "Oh, Joe, don't worry about it. It happens to lots of guys. I mean, never with me. But I've heard it does." She turns to face Rachel again and as she does, Joey's eyes go wide with frustration. "Well, Rach, I'm tired and going to bed. Night Joe! Keep a stiff upper lip!" She laughs at her joke and disappears into her bedroom.

Rachel runs over to Joey in the kitchen, "I am so sorry, I couldn't think of anything."

Joey's voice goes high as his tone becomes agitated. "Now I got you besmirching the good name of Joey Tribbiani! See, this is why I don't like secrets! Everybody is lying to each other now and I'm the one who looks bad!"


	12. White Lies

**White Lies**

Rachel jabs a scolding finger in the direction of Chandler and Ross, who are sitting together on the orange sofa at Central Perk, still giggling at the jokes they have been making at Joey's expense. "Don't listen to them. I think it's sexy."

Joey slowly lifts his sandwich up to his mouth. "You and I sexy?" He waggles his eyebrows at Rachel smugly and takes a big bite. Chewing and smiling in her direction.

Rachel looks over at Chandler and Ross and shakes her head in disbelief. "Okay, He is all yours boys. I'm out." She gets up from the chair. "Enjoy your afternoon fellas."

Ross looks up at her, "Hey, I'll walk out with you, I have to go too." He stands up, tucks his paper under his arm and turns towards Chandler. "See you later Chan." He looks over at Joey. "And I'll see you later too, Ma'am." Chandler puts his newspaper in his lap and chortles while Joey ignores Ross' joke.

Chandler looks over his shoulder and watches the two of them leave the coffee house. He quickly turns to Joey, who is still munching away at his sandwich. "What was that about?"

Joe, looking puzzled, "What?"

Chandler flops his arms around, exasperated at his roommate's short memory. "You and I sexy?"

"Hey, don't blame me. She brought it up! I think it's the bag. It makes me irresistible to women." Joey pats the bag proudly.

"Yes. That bag screams 'masculine sex symbol'. It's a veritable chick magnet." Chandler picks up his paper again and starts to scan the pages, looking for an interesting article to read.

Joey returns his focus to his sandwich. "So, you decide what to do about the massages?"

Chandler peers at him over the newspaper. "Yes. I am going to suffer in silence until she murders me or I die of natural causes. Whichever one comes first."

Joey looks up at him. "Well, if you want my advice,"

Chandler cuts him off. "Really. Relationship advice? From you?"

Joey waves his sandwich around insistently and then points it at Chandler. "Hey! At least I never had to hide the fact that I was doing it with a hot chick like you are. Anyway, do you want the advice or not?"

Chandler sighs, adopting a regretful tone. "Go ahead."

Joey sits forward and leans towards Chandler. "Well, if I want to have sex with a woman just once, I lie all the time. It doesn't matter. I'm leaving on a sea voyage, I have a degree in some kind of science stuff, I lived in China for a year. It can be anything, because in the end she gets to tell a nice story and I get to have sex."

Chandler tilts his head slightly. "That sounds ethical."

Joey waves off his criticism. "But now, if I want to have sex with a woman more than once, then I don't lie."

Chandler shakes his head, dumbfounded. "You really said something there."

"Look, you said it the other day, this was your first real relationship, right?"

Chandler pauses for a moment and nods. "Yeah."

"Okay, so she is the 'have sex with more than once' kind of girl. So, take it from me. Don't lie. Because one minute you're telling her you're Robert DeNiro's nephew, and then a week later you're both walking down the street and there he is, filming a movie on 59th, and she's asking you to introduce her to your uncle. And I'll tell you, Robert DeNiro does not like when strangers come up to him on the street and yell 'Hey! Uncle Bobby!' Especially when he is in the middle of shooting a scene." Joey nods sagely.

Chandler shakes his head in disbelief. "Yeah, cause that's a relatable story. I think I'll stick with the 'not telling her the truth' plan."

Joey sits back, his gaze again fixated on his sandwich. "Suit yourself pal, but take it from me, you always get caught by the 'sex more than once' girls." He takes a big bite from his lunch and chews rapturously.

Chandler drops the newspaper in his lap. "Joey, this isn't 'telling her I'm a Kennedy' kind of lie. This is a, uh," Chandler pinches his forefinger and thumb together, "a little white lie. So she doesn't get her feelings hurt. What is so wrong with that."

Joey sighs and looks over at his roommate. "Chan, when are you gonna learn? It doesn't matter what you do. Women always get their feelings hurt. At least if you tell the truth, you aren't hurting her feelings on purpose. If I were you, the next time she gives you a massage, you should say something."

* * *

Ross walks out of Monica and Rachel's apartment and turns towards the stairwell, about to start his descent when he hears someone call his name from behind. He turns his head around to find Chandler jogging from their door to the stairs. "Wait up. I'll walk with you." Chandler makes his way over to Ross and both men begin walking down the steps, on their way to the ground floor. "So, uh, can I ask your advice?" Ross nods. "Monica really doesn't like to be lied to, huh? Even if it's harmless?"

Ross, looking puzzled, stops on a landing and turns to face Chandler, "Huh? Oh, the whole massage thing. I guess not."

"Are you saying none of you ever lied to her to protect her feelings when she was, you know, a little overweight?" Chandler looks down, almost in embarrassment.

"Oh, yeah, we used to back then. But when Monica started losing the weight and realized how different she looked. Man, did we get an earful."

Chandler looks back up towards the top of the stairs. "You think I should go back and apologize? Talk it out?"

"What? To Monica? How come? Why is this such a big deal? So you told her a lie so she wouldn't feel bad. It's not like if it was a girlfriend or something."

Chandler puts on a fake, dismissive smile. "Yeah. You're right. It's just Monica." He pauses for a moment and his expression becomes serious again. "Well, I'd hate to think I hurt her feelings by lying. She's my," Chandler hesitates, looking for the right word. "She's my good friend. You know how close we are. What if I lied to you? Would you be okay with it?"

Ross looks off to the side for a moment. "I guess if you explained to me why you lied, and it was for a good reason. Sure, I'd be okay with it. I mean, I still wouldn't be thrilled about it, but I wouldn't be pissed either."

Chandler rubs his chin for a moment. "But, I'd have to come clean for that to happen, right?"

Ross nods. "Okay, are we done talking about my sister? I really have to go. There's an apartment I'm looking at today and I need to be there in a half-hour."

* * *

Monica was still pretty glum about the entire "massage" incident this morning. First, she felt like everyone was ganging up on her and making fun of her skills as a masseuse, but more importantly, she was still upset about Chandler lying to her. She was hoping to talk to him about it after everyone had gone. Normally, Chandler would make sure he was the last one to leave so they could have a few minutes alone together, but this morning, he left early, quickly following Ross out of the apartment, which was uncharacteristic of him.

Joey was the next to leave. He wanted to take some more time and prepare for his audition later this afternoon. Phoebe walked out with him, having an appointment with a client of her own to get to. Monica felt a little alone even though Rachel was still in the bathroom, touching up her hair one last time. She needed to talk to someone, but that didn't seem possible, so she resigned herself to tidying up. Collecting the used coffee mugs from the table and bringing them over to the sink so she could rinse them off.

As she turned on the faucet, Rachel walked into the kitchen. "Okay Mon, I guess I'll see you tonight."

Monica turned the water off and bit on her thumbnail for a few seconds. Nervously, she turned around and darted her eyes over to catch her roommate's attention. "Hey, Rach, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, but I only have a few minutes before I have to go." Rachel starts shifting some stuff around in her purse, checking the contents once more, making sure she has everything she needs for the day.

"Did I overreact?"

"You're going to have to narrow that down for me Mon, you tend to overreact about a lot of stuff." Rachel laughs inaudibly at her own joke.

Monica rolls her eyes, already regretting saying something. She continues anyway. "I mean, with Chandler, before. About the whole massage thing."

"Why would you care about…" Rachel stops herself for a moment, realizing that in some weird, clandestine way, her best friend is asking her for relationship advice. "Oh, uh, well, I don't know. He probably just didn't want you to feel bad. You know how much he cares about you."

Monica looks down and pulls on her sleeves, stretching them over her hands. "Well, what if it was you?"

"I wouldn't really care if Chandler lied about liking my massages."

Monica shakes her head. "Well, what if it was Ross."

Rachel stiffens up a bit. "Well, Ross and I have a different history than you and Chandler. I'm not sure it would be the same thing."

Monica nods and pulls out a chair at the table to sit in. "I know. I just," she pauses. "Chandler and I have known each other for a long time. I'd like to think we are really close. Close enough not to lie to each other."

Rachel looks at Monica and sees a vulnerability in her eyes that she doesn't recognize. "Well honey, I guess if you are asking if Ross lied to me, now, just as my friend and not as my boyfriend? Then yes, I'd probably still be upset, like you were. But you know, sometimes guys think they are protecting us from stuff and don't realize they're the ones who are hurting us. Even when Ross and I were dating, he would tell little lies, thinking it would make me feel better than if he told me the truth. I normally wouldn't call him out on it unless I thought it was a big deal. I think, maybe that was part of our problem. We didn't communicate enough about the little things."

Monica starts to get a little flustered. "Oh, well, that's different. That was when you were dating. This is just Chandler."

Rachel picks up her purse from the table and walks over to the door. "Mon, if it bothers you, you should say something. I know when I have a boy…" Rachel stops herself before she finishes the word, noticing Monica getting uncomfortable. "When I have a very good friend, like you, or Phoebe, or Ross, I think it is important to be honest and to talk about those things So, just talk to him about it. If he knows how much it bothers you, he will stop doing it."

Monica nods her head slowly. "Yeah, you're right Rach. Thanks." Rachel smiles at her and reassuringly pats Monica's hand, and slips out of the apartment.

Monica gets up and starts to clean the rest of the dirty dishes left on the table by her friends. She moves quickly, grumbling a bit under her breath at their laziness until the task is completed and everything has been put away. Normally, when she was completing a chore, it would take her mind off anything that was bothering her, but she couldn't shake off her disappointment.

She decides to walk over to the couch where she had put the non-perishable groceries that she bought earlier this morning. Thinking that putting them away might help clear her mind. She pulls out a box of pasta and studies its label for a moment, but is broken from her daydream as she hears the door to her apartment open. She turns to see Chandler's head poke through. "Hey, is Rachel here?"

* * *

Monica and Chandler are lying in his bed, both experiencing the post-coital high that is amplified from their session of make-up sex. After they had talked and worked out the entire massage incident, they realized that they had the two apartments all to themselves and decided to take advantage of that situation. Once they had finish, Monica curled up against him, one arm draped across his stomach. "Thanks for coming back to apologize. I was worried that I was making a big deal out of it, but when you came back to talk to me about it, it made me feel like you thought it was a big deal too. I guess it is nice to see we are on the same page."

Chandler smiles. "It is a big deal. And I promise you, if I ever lie to you again, I will do it so much better."

Monica smirks at him and pinches his side. He lets out an exaggerated, "Owwww!" She laughs and he places a kiss on the top of her head. He tenses up slightly and takes a deep breath."I have something for you." Chandler leans over and pulls open the drawer on his end table. "I know it isn't Valentine's Day yet, but it's only a few days away and I wanted to give this to you now, just in case something comes up and we don't get to be together to do anything."

Monica lifts her head off his chest and looks at him. "I thought we said we weren't getting each other gifts. That if we exchanged gifts during the holidays it would look suspicious. You were the one who specifically said we should ignore Valentine's Day. You said the others would think it was weird." Her tone sharpens into admonishment.

"I know, but this is different. Trust me. No one will think it is weird."

"okay, I'm not going to fight about getting a present." Chandler rustles around for a few moments and finally pulls out an old digital watch. He hands it to Monica who looks at it disparagingly. "Well, no one else might think it is weird, but I do. Why are you giving me a crappy watch?"

Chandler chuckles nervously. "No, look at the time."

Monica turns the face of the watch over and glances at it. "This is way off. So, you got me a watch that can't tell time? You relly know how to turn a girl on. Oh, please take me now."

Chandler rolls his eyes. "No, look. It's five hours ahead. This was the watch you set on London time before we left. You know, before we got together. I never changed it back. It just means that I'm still on London time." He gestures back-and-forth between them. "It means we're still on London time. I thought maybe you could hold onto it, like as a reminder or a memento. I know. It's stupid."

He reaches down to take the watch back but Monica slaps his hand away. She looks back down at it and smiles. She turns back to face him, "No, it isn't stupid. I think its sweet. You're really cute when you try to get all sentimental, you know that?"

Chandler cheeks flush a bit and an embarrassed smile spreads across his lips. "Well, I had to get you something, it's going to be Valentine's day and I love…" he pauses for a minute and Monica can feel her breath shorten. "uh…being on London time still."

Monica sighs and smiles again. She reaches over and puts the watch on the end table by her side of the bed. "I fell bad though, I didn't get you anything."

"Well, there's always sex on the…"

"Don't say it!"

Chandler exhales a laugh. He looks up at the ceiling and raises his eyebrows slightly. "Well, what about sex in the living room at your apartment?"

Monica furrows her brow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, next time we have the place to ourselves, instead of hiding in your bedroom, we just go at it like animals, right there, up against the window!"

Monica rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Maybe I'll just get you a watch that has the correct time instead."


	13. Amphetamines and Sedatives

**Amphetamines and Sedatives**

Monica stood outside Alessandro's after her shift was over, breathing in the crisp, cold air of a February night in New York City. Even when temperatures are this low, she enjoys these first few moments on the sidewalk after she gets off work. Every evening she would step out the service entrance doors, leaving the ubiquitous din of the restaurant behind her. She would stretch and curl her fingers and toes, take a deep breath and then exhale out all the stress from that night's shift. She finds that the cold actually feels refreshing after spending ten hours working over several hot ovens in a warm kitchen. She would enjoy the thirty-five to forty-minute walk home, allowing the air to resettle her spirit and enjoying the aerobic movement that would keep her muscles warm and limber, before the soreness would have a chance to creep in.

Tonight, though, was a little different. In actuality, every night has been a little different since she returned from London almost five months ago. She no longer wants to waste over a half-hour walking home when a cab could get her there in ten minutes. She no longer had the stress of work relentlessly boring down on her long after she arrived home. She no longer felt tired and alone, as she had for most of the last year, before her brother's wedding. She no longer tried to avoid going home to an empty apartment late at night. She no longer had no one special to go home to. Now, she had Chandler.

It was strange to feel that way. To know that her boyfriend would always be there when she came home. Always available. Just across the hall. Practically any time of day or night, if she wanted to see him, he was there. It was not like this with any of the other men she had dated. Even Kip, who lived in that very same apartment as Chandler does now, made sure to put some space between them. He would explain how they should make sure to spend time apart. That they would become bored with each other if they spent every day together.

Chandler has no such reservations. Even before they started dating, he was always there. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Movies. Game nights. They were constantly in each other's lives. It would be stranger if she went home and he was not around. She wonders if his constant presence helps ease her mind and keeps her content.

As she steps out onto the curb to hail a taxi, she plays back the events of this morning, when Chandler excitedly rushed into her apartment. He told her that Ross was going to stay overnight at Carol and Susan's apartment to watch Ben while they attended a wedding that was out of town. The sitter they had arranged to watch him fell through, and Ross was more than happy to take advantage of the situation to spend more time with his son. Upon hearing this new information, she immediately joined Chandler in his exuberance, remembering that Joey had arranged to go on two separate dates tonight, back-to-back. All of this meant that they would finally have his apartment to themselves. Her smile matched his as they both reflected on how much uninterrupted time they would have together. They giggled like children and shared a high-five.

The two of them quickly formulated a plan while Rachel was still in the shower. Chandler would lay low and keep to himself in his apartment, avoiding the girls if they showed up looking for something to do. Monica would work her usual evening shift and then come straight to his room, able to use a late night at the restaurant as cover. They shared a long, passionate kiss as if it were a signature on their pact and Chandler slipped back out of the apartment before anyone knew he was there.

After he left, Monica spun back around to face the sink, smiling, and thinking about the evening to come. It has been more than a few weeks since they were able to spend all night together. The last time they tried, Rachel interrupted them and Monica had to leave early in order to avoid suspicion. Now, with everyone gone, they finally had their opportunity to be alone, long into the early hours of the next morning. The thought of being able to fall asleep in his arms made her shiver with anticipation.

She made her way to her bedroom, intent on picking out an outfit to change into after she got off work. Even though Chandler has never complained about her work clothes, she wanted to make tonight special by dressing up a little. She pulled out a skirt that ended just above the knees and a cute top she had been dying to wear ever since she bought it last month.

The rest of the afternoon was uneventful. Rachel went to work and Monica took some time to take a relaxing bath after she completed a few chores around the apartment. It was not until she arrived at work that she realized how giddy she had been all day. Once one of her co-workers mentioned something tonight about the change in her demeanor over the last few months, she took pause, not realizing how obvious she was outwardly projecting her feelings. She normally tried to maintain a certain level of professionalism at work, and, up until now, she was certain her constant excitement was not on full display for everybody to see.

She initially thought about trying to hold her emotions in check, but quickly realized she did not care if her kitchen staff knew how she felt. She had stopped worrying about what it meant to be this happy when she thought about being with Chandler and just accepted that this is who she is now. She was finally able to relax and enjoy that euphoric feeling that comes during these early stages of a relationship.

With her last two serious boyfriends, when they got this far along into the relationship, she was already occupied with thoughts of the future. Where were they going? Did they want the same things? Was it too soon to have a conversation about all of this? Will they freak out if they discover the wedding book that she has had since she was a child? Now, she does not worry about anything. For the first time in her adult life, she is calmly living in the moment.

Something about being with Chandler made her feel different. Made her free. There was this nagging familiarity to how she has felt over the last few months. Reminding her of something, but she always put that thought out of her mind. Content just to enjoy herself and not overanalyze everything. It wasn't until tonight, as she flagged down a cab after work and slid into the back seat, when it dawned on her what was happening.

She was turning back into Fat Monica.

She was not gaining weight or eating with reckless abandon, but she was turning into Fat Monica all the same. That teenager who was so comfortable in her own skin. The high school girl who danced at a college party without a care in the world. The girl who was excited to go to the prom with her date, even if he watched Star Wars 317 times. Fat Monica lived in the moment, she was a slightly goofy kid who made bad jokes, snorted when she laughed and embraced her awkwardness with unabashed confidence. Sure, she had to deal with the occasional whispered insults at school or the frequent passive-aggressive comment from her mother, but overall, she was happy with herself. She had a best friend who never treated her as if she was something less than because of her weight; that protected her and enabled her to be whoever she wanted to be.

As high school progressed, and Rachel began dating boys who were outside of Monica's social circles, that one constant confidant she could rely on was no longer around as much to make her feel accepted. Soon enough, those words from her mother began to sting a little bit more. The comments from classmates were easier to overhear. Her confidence started to wane. By the time she first met Chandler, and she heard him tell Ross that he didn't want to "hang out with your fat sister", it was the final straw. It wasn't even that he called her fat, Monica was used to her weight being the first thing people reacted to when meeting her. It was that he did not want to hang out with her. He did not even want to get to know who she was. After that, being Fat Monica was not fun anymore. Not if it meant no one wanted to be around her.

When Monica lost the weight, there was also a part of her personality that went away. At the time, she assumed it was just her getting older and more mature. That changing was a part of growing up. She isn't so sure about that anymore. Because now, being with Chandler, she feels like that girl again, the one who can say and do whatever she wants because she found the one person who accepts every part of her. She feels that love again that shields her from criticism and allows her to be herself.

She realizes, as the cab pulls up to her building that in some way Chandler was always that person. At least, he has been that person ever since he moved across the hall. Something had changed in him; he was softer, less acerbic. He was sweet and thoughtful instead of cruel and dismissive. He would laugh at her jokes and encourage her to loosen up. Even when he was playfully teasing her, he made it clear that he accepted her for who she is and not who everyone told her she was supposed to be.

They shared unspoken private moments, even when everyone else was around. They had a connection in a way they could never achieve with the others. Sharing glances and smiles at the antics of their friends. She begins to think that maybe this is why her relationship with Chandler feels so different. There is this magical mixture of familiarity and comfort with new and exciting.

Monica hands the driver some cash and steps out onto the street. She looks up at the building where she has lived for almost eight years. She wonders if the right man for her had been right here, under her nose the entire time. She huddles her shoulders together to protect herself from the cold wind and enters the lobby. She takes a quick look at her reflection in the window by the stairs to check her hair one last time. Satisfied, she makes her way up to her floor.

She stops at the door of apartment 19, gives herself a quick hit of her breath spray, and walks in. The living room is dark, but she can see a light from under Chandler's bedroom door where he is no doubt waiting. She glances around the room and can tell he had attempted to clean up. Even with Ross' boxes cluttered around the couch, she notices the differences in the little things that tip her off. Objects on the TV cabinet had been moved around, placed in new locations, indicating he had dusted the furniture. The dishtowel was hanging from a cabinet knob, so she knew he had washed something in the sink recently. The bathroom door was open and she could see clean towels hanging from the rack. Joey's bedroom door was closed, no doubt the temporary quarters for the duck and rooster. She allowed herself a sly smile, recognizing the changes in him already that must be because of her.

She deftly maneuvers around the unpacked boxes in the living room and approaches his bedroom. She opens the door, finding him lying in bed in a T-shirt and boxers, reading a book. Chandler looks up at her as his mouth slowly opens wide. "Wow, you look amazing. How do you look this good after working all night?"

Monica flashes a shy smile and closes the door behind her. "Hey sweetie." She whispers to him as she slips off her shoes.

Chandler allows a large grin to spread across his face. "Why are you whispering? No one else is here."

Monica shrugs her shoulders and glides into bed, bringing her body up against his. She takes the book from his hands, closes it and places it on the end table next to her. "So, what did you do all day?"

Chandler looks around the room. "I cleaned and waited for you. Can't you tell by the sheets?" He gestures towards the bed proudly.

Monica runs her fingers over the bedsheets and smiles. "Did you use the detergent I left here for you?"

Chandler nods. "Yep. Now everything smells nice and is oh so soft. Just how you like it."

"Chandler! I don't want you to clean for me. I want you to clean for you." She playfully slaps him on the chest. "Also, you have to take them out of the dryer faster. These pillow cases are all wrinkled."

Chandler lets out a loud laugh. "Well, if I only cleaned for myself, then nothing would ever get clean." He places a small kiss on her cheek "I guess you bring it out of me. I never cleaned for any of the other girls."

Monica looks up at him. "Really? Then why do you do it now?"

"Well, you aren't just some other girl. You're Monica."

Monica leans in and kisses him. "That's so sweet. You know, you always said how bad you are at relationships, but I have to tell you, you are doing a great job with this one. I wonder if we should have been doing this all along. Maybe I should have taken you up on your offer last year when we went to the beach."

Chandler smiles. "That would have been a bad idea. I wasn't ready for you yet."

She begins to tug at his shirt, running the fabric between her fingers. "What do you mean?"

Chandler shifts his weight to give her more room next to him. He wraps one arm around her and places the other behind his head. "You were there. You know how I was. Constantly in my own head about everything. Screwing things up over stupid reasons. Pushing women away. I think I needed that stuff with Kathy to set me straight. I probably deserved it."

Monica slaps him on the chest. "Chandler, no one deserves to be cheated on." She then smiles and looks up at him confidently. "Well, maybe I would have brought this out of you, even back then?"

Chandler looks up at the ceiling and lightly chuckles. "Maybe. You have brought a lot out of me already."

"I'm serious."

Chandler looks down to meet her eyes and smiles. "You might be right. Ever since I moved in here, you've been the most important person in my life. Maybe, knowing that, makes me try harder than I ever have before."

Monica's eyes sparkle as a delighted grin spreads across her lips. "Really? More important than Joey?"

Chandler laughs and brings his hand from behind his head to rest on his stomach. "You're more important than Joey, Baywatch, free porn and anything else I can think of. You're my best friend. I know I said I try harder at this, but actually, it isn't all that hard. I just sort of think about you and this stuff comes naturally."

Monica's smile widens as she leans up against him, running her fingers across his chest and bunching the fabric of his shirt in her hand. "You are so cute. How did you get to be so cute?"

Chandler looks up and smirks. "Well…."


	14. I Love You Monica

"**I Love You Monica"**

After shoving Chandler out of the bathroom and back into the living room, with a bottle of lotion in his hands, Monica closes the door quickly behind him so as not to be seen. She folds her hands together and brings them to her mouth in nervous anticipation but allows a momentary expression of disgust to briefly wash over her. _"I don't even want to know what they use that lotion for." _

She takes another look around the bathroom to see if there is anything else she could possibly tidy up. A towel that is out of place, a tube of toothpaste squeezed from the center that could be rolled up neatly, maybe some loose short hairs on the sink that fell while one of the boys had been shaving. Anything to help tamp down the overwhelming adrenalized excitement she has been feeling ever since they decided to mess with Rachel and Phoebe. Earlier today, she had actually welcomed this feeling and was relieved to succumb to the irrational passion that envelopes her when she competes against someone else. Once she realized Phoebe was coming on to Chandler intentionally, to make him uncomfortable, as a way to force them to admit they were seeing each other, it was game on.

In that moment, when Joey told them what was going on, she relished becoming the fierce competitor who broke her own brother's nose to win a game of touch football. The fiery woman who flung a dish because of the outcome of a round of Pictionary. She was happy to become that woman, even for just a little while, because it meant she wasn't focusing on the real events of the day. That everyone knew.

Knowing that the desire to win at all costs can almost blind her to everything else that is happening around her, spurred her on in her zeal. All her life, competitions had been a distraction. Overweight, money problems, no boyfriend, her mother says something critical, her job sucks; it all melts away in these heightened moments of conflict. Today, more than any other time in her life, that diversion has proven to be especially useful.

Even moments ago, just before she ushered Chandler out of the bathroom, when he appeared ready to give in and call the whole thing off, that desire to win at all costs was still a much-needed distraction. When he came in, nervous that they had gone too far, Monica made sure he got his head in the game and went back out there. _"You seduce her until she cracks!" _She wasn't ready to face the truth.

She had hoped that in continuing to allow this part of her to take over, it meant her mind would not obsess about the fact that almost every one of their friends now knows that her and Chandler are together. But those thoughts are breaking through. Chipping away at her antagonistic nature she was trying to use as a shield. She turned to her next obsession for relief and cleaned the bathroom with a vigor she often reserves for more intimate activities. Even now, as she searches for anything to clean, the cracks in her defenses are widening and she is frightened because it means she will have to admit the truth. That is something she is not ready to deal with and something she is certain Chandler isn't ready for either. They haven't even been able to hold up to each other's scrutiny, how could they possibly hold up to their friends?

She is not ready because it means having a conversation with Chandler, having _**the**_ conversation with Chandler, that she has not prepared for. The one it seems he is not ready to have. The one where they talk openly about exactly how they feel and what they are doing. The conversation that takes them from two people who were goofing around until they found themselves in this secret relationship and graduates them into something more real. Something bigger than anything they have been through since London. Something she never saw coming until that fateful night. They'd have to talk about love.

Normally, Monica would be ready to have these conversations. She has been wanting to have this kind of talk with someone almost her entire adult life. The conversation that leads to plans for the future, and marriage, and family. The conversation about "ever after". With Chandler though, she understands that she needs to tiptoe through the landmine that is his trepidation of being in a serious, committed, adult relationship. That they need to move at his glacial pace. To Monica's surprise, that hesitation to push them forward had actually freed her to live in the moment over these last few months. And she is certain that living in the moment has made this the most rewarding relationship she had ever been in.

A part of her is worried; once everything is out in the open, and her friends start to ask questions and make comments that dig into the foundation of what Monica and Chandler have built, could they survive? Would it be too much, would his old habits crop up? Would her obsessive need to always know where things are going, overcome what they are now? Could they somehow still hold onto this magical thing they have between them? Have they really changed, ready to move forward, or is this relationship some kind of secret Garden of Eden, where once the outside world crashes in, they'll be exiled from this wonderful place they have been living in.

She would admit that lately, she had been slowly coming around to the idea that they were going to have to take the next step. Even in her cautious state, she knows that relationships need to evolve to survive, even one that has been as exciting and amazing as this. In her most private moments, she understands that this phase of what they are is going to have to die and be reborn as something new, and hopefully, something even better.

She laughs quietly to herself at the thought of Chandler being afraid of commitment, labels, and moving forward. He doesn't need to be afraid of it. He is already doing it. And he is doing it better than anyone she had ever been in a relationship with before. He deftly made the switch from best friend to boyfriend, and he seems to be really happy about it. As if being together has enabled him to thrive. She sees it in everything he does lately. He has this confidence that she never saw in him before London.

Monica presses her ear up to the door to see if she can hear anything, but Chandler and Phoebe's low voices on the other side are too unintelligible for her to make out. She leans back against the sink and looks down for a few moments, taking deep breaths to calm her nervous energy. She can't believe Phoebe would actually go forward with getting naked and letting Chandler rub lotion on her. _"All he has to do is not let her get in his head and she will definitely back out."_

Monica knows from the many conversations she has had with Phoebe and Rachel about the guys, that Phoebe does not see Chandler as a sexual entity. That suits Monica just fine. She doesn't want some other woman, especially one of her best friends, thinking about Chandler in that way. That thought frightens her a little. That possessiveness she already has over him and the streak of hot jealousy that she can feel as the fleeting idea of someone moving in on her territory crosses her mind. All of these thoughts are why Monica surrendered herself to this crazy, messed up contest between them in the first place.

She thinks about Chandler more and more as hers. Not just as the man she is dating, but as her one and only. That he could possibly be that person she had been waiting for all this time. That thought gives her an odd mix of fear and comfort. Were they ready to give all of themselves to each other and to this relationship? She wasn't sure. She could see that Chandler had still been unable to get past some part of himself. Normally that would be a red flag blaring in her mind.

Yet, Chandler has been so sweet, and so attentive. He's been everything she ever wanted. And he was her best friend. They've spent so much time together over the years. They've shared their worst moments, their best moments. All before London. That dynamic of their relationship, the closeness they already feel, seems to have made all the difference. But then London happened and thanks to that wonderful night of passion that she didn't even know was possible, they became what they are now, and it feels more natural than she could have ever hoped for. It was as if a veil had been removed and the world became clearer. Waiting for him to be ready to move the relationship forward has been easier than she thought it would be. Because she isn't waiting for some guy to come around, she is waiting for Chandler.

That all changes now. With Joey, Rachel and Phoebe all knowing about them, their private little world is about to disappear. Monica harbors a small fear that everything could be in danger of unraveling. That the only reason this relationship is working is due to their secrecy. Once those walls come down between them and the real world, then the questions, the jokes, the meddling, the nudges to be pushed further down the road will all come at them like a full force gale. The agonizing over telling her brother, her parents, and what it would mean for Chandler when they do, would be in full swing. Is he ready for that?

This is why she had allowed her more primal competitive nature to take over. This is why she is hiding in the bathroom compelling her boyfriend to seduce another woman. Because to not do this would mean ending what they are now, and she doesn't know if she is ready to do that.

Monica is taken out of her moment of solitude and reflection when she hears Chandler begin to yell. "OKAY!OKAY!OKAY!OKAY! FINE! YOU WIN!"

"_Oh come on! I knew I should have gone out there and done this instead of him. I would have seduced Phoebe in five minutes!" _She then reaches for the door, dejected, ready to face her defeat. _"Well, really, this is his defeat. He's the one who gave in. I never agreed to forfeit, so technically I didn't lose!"_

As her hand reaches the door knob she can hear Phoebe smugly respond to Chandler's submission. "And why not?"

"_Great, he's about to tell them about us." _Monica takes a quick breath to steel herself against the worst possible outcome.

"Because I'm in love with Monica!"

Phoebe brings a voice to the words in her head. Both sharing a sentiment of shock and awe. _"You're what?" _

Monica can't hear anything after that, save for Chandler. She flings open the door and hears the panic and frustration in his voice as he yells "I! Love! Her!" and a part of her feels terrible for doing that to him, but then she realizes what is happening and she can't help but smile. Despite her previous misgivings about what was going to happen at the end of today, all she can feel is unabashed euphoria.

They finally make eye contact and she immediately notes a change in Chandler's demeanor. His face becomes still and calm. A smile starts to cross over his own lips as he approaches her. Their eyes never leave one another. Suddenly, there is no one else in the room. The entire world has just collided with their own, but she never took into account that their private little world is the stronger of the two and all those worries and doubts melt away as she sees the earnest, confidant look in his eyes.

He puts his hands on her waist and suddenly all of those things she thought about while waiting in the bathroom don't matter. All those questions are already answered. He looks at her, the way he has been looking at her ever since London and softly, sincerely, and with the conviction of the man she has grown to love, once again announces his declaration, but this time it is for her, and her alone. "I Love you, Monica."


	15. I Love You Too, Chandler

"**I Love You Too, Chandler"**

After getting shoved out of the bathroom and back into the living room by Monica, with a bottle of lotion in his hands, she closes the door quickly behind him so as not to be seen. His eyes dart nervously around the room and for a moment, he thinks maybe Phoebe left and he can breathe again. His fleeting moment of relief is abruptly ended when he sees her at the door. Hoping to have this night over, he tries to spurn her away by dismissively asking, "Oh, you're going?" But she turns around, and to his discomfort, her shirt is unbuttoned exposing her bra. She saunters over to him and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight.

He hates feeling like this, nervous, self-conscious, uncomfortable, riddled with doubt. He can feel sweat pooling along his back and across his hairline. He has trouble forming coherent sentences and can't even hear what is being said due to the pounding in his ears. He is on auto-pilot, except his version of auto-pilot is designed to crash and burn when dealing with a woman in an intimate situation.

His entire dating portfolio is filled with encounters like this. Where he doesn't know how to act or what to say. Where his every move is over-analyzed in his mind and he knows the inevitable frustration of being rejected is about to wash over him. He would laugh if he wasn't already scared out of his mind. He is actually hoping for rejection from Phoebe tonight. He doesn't want to do this. Yet, those familiar thoughts and emotions from a decade of dating creep up and that constant feeling of being less than overwhelms him.

He hasn't felt like this since London. Wonderful, amazing, magical London. That city brought Monica into his life in a way he never thought possible. He glances at the bathroom door as if he could compel her to emerge simply by thinking her name, but then his eyes return to Phoebe in an attempt to continue this courtship cold war that is causing him so much distress. Yet, the thought that she is right there, right behind that door is almost comforting. He knows that all he needs to do is see her, touch her, and all this anxiety will wash away.

He is a different man with her. He is confident, secure, and apparently, very sexy and desirable. Him. Chandler Bing. The man who has a dating record as spotted as a dalmatian. The guy who turned away women for the most insignificant reasons just to protect himself from what he always imagined was inevitable. Rejection. That they wouldn't want him once they got to know him, and that he would be alone again. Alone. Like he has been almost his entire life.

His parents never seemed to want him around. His high school was a minefield of social awkwardness and isolation. It wasn't until he decided to be the funny guy in college that he actually started to attract people. Then he met Ross and for the first time he felt like he had something akin to a real friendship, and it wasn't until Monica that he actually began to feel like he had any worth at all. That he actually deserved friendship.

They always had a powerful connection. She made him feel accepted. Normal. Wanted. Included. For reasons that he couldn't explain, she needed the same reassurances from him. Even long after everyone else showed up and the six of them became constant fixtures in each other's lives. The two of them would share a smile and a laugh at some dumb joke one of them had made, even if it went unheard or simply ignored by the others. A gentle touch on the shoulder or leg, simply to let each other know that they were there for one another, in a way they weren't for the others.

She always made sure he was taken care of, a warm meal when he was sick, encouragement when he had doubts about his job or after yet another failed date. She was always in his corner. To his surprise, he would do the same for her. It was in those moments of giving when he felt at his best. When he realized his companionship had value.

But then there was London, and at first, he was deathly afraid to lose her, but instead of losing her, he found her for what felt like the first time. Even more surprising, he felt as if maybe he found himself for the first time as well. Because of London, everything in his life was right, and true. He doesn't believe in cosmic destiny, but even he would admit, London and everything after it felt like it was meant to happen. That this is who they were always meant to be. That this was who he was meant to be.

Even as emboldened as he was about how right everything they were doing felt, he was still insecure at the start. He was unsure of how much of himself she could handle before she threw her arms up and gave up on their relationship. But that hasn't happened yet. It has been almost five months and she hasn't run away from him. He doesn't know why; he is sure he has already given her a few reasons to call it quits. But there she was, every day; her face, upon seeing him, lighting up so brightly it could power the entire city. That adorable crinkle on her nose that signified how truly happy she was. And he was the one doing that to her. He was responsible for her happiness.

Then there's the sex. He hates that he thinks about that almost as quickly as he thinks about how it feels being with her, but damn the sex is great. He has never been with anyone who seemed to like sex as much as he did, and he has never pleased a woman the way he pleases her. It is as if she was designed to be physically receptive to even his slightest touch. Of course he wanted her, she was beautiful and sexy, but the fact that she wanted him too, it blew his mind.

Something took him over that night in London. He never performed like that with any woman. And it continued on long after they returned home. He felt himself become better at everything, more driven to please her, more capable of doing anything he needed to do in bed. He was doing so well, that she considers him the best sex she ever had. Him. Chandler Bing. Is the best she ever had. It made him insane with arrogance when he heard that for the first time. Even now, he just wants to gloat to everyone he sees, he wants to show strangers her picture and brag about what she said. But he doesn't. He learned the hard way; gloating doesn't endear him to her.

So, he channeled that energy into the relationship, and without any real effort, he felt calm, confidant, wanted, needed, loved. He felt loved. Even more than that though. He felt love for her. A strange, stronger emotion than he has ever felt about anyone before.

Phoebe was talking to him, and he was talking back, but he couldn't tell what either of them were actually saying. he couldn't hear anything due to this constant buzzing in his ears. Drowning out everything around him. He almost felt dizzy, as if he was going to pass out from the immense pressure. Suddenly, a secret relationship didn't feel all that rewarding anymore if the woman he wanted to be with at this very moment was hiding in his bathroom. It wasn't worth not coming clean if it meant he had to feel like this terrible, unwanted person again. He doesn't like being that person. He doesn't like who he is without her. He realizes that in this moment. That whoever he had become ever since London, it is because of her. The woman on the other side of the door. Maybe that is why he is able to think about all of this while also dealing with this inane competition with Phoebe. It is as if he is floating outside of his body, trying to close the airlock around his true feelings, holding all of these thoughts inside.

Phoebe is close now, so close he can smell her skin and all he can think about is that she doesn't smell like Monica. It isn't that Phoebe is unpleasant, she is quite beautiful but she isn't Monica. Monica smells familiar and inviting. Monica smells like nothing he had ever known before. Her scent is always with him wherever he goes, constantly calming his nerves and narrowing his focus on her. She is a kind of spiritual aroma therapy, and in this moment, all he wants is to inhale her deep into himself.

Phoebe puts her hand on his waist and he clumsily responds with his own attempt at intimacy. Even this feels strange. Her waist is at the wrong position. It is too high; it doesn't have that curve that his hands comfortably wraps around when he grabs Monica this way. It doesn't have the warm, inviting feeling as though she melts into his touch, fusing them as one. Now, it just feels cold and alien.

She grabs him again, and he can't even figure out what to do with his other hand. It hovers in a crooked, stiff position. With Monica, his hands feel comfortable with any part of her body, and her body is receptive to his touch. Monica would let out little satisfied moans when he applies gentle pressure to her shoulder, or when his fingers glide up the sides of her arms, or when he brushes the back of his hand along her bare stomach. With Phoebe, he can't even bring himself make contact.

He says something that doesn't make any sense to him. She seems to respond, but that pounding in his head is drumming louder and louder, and he can hardly focus on anything. If this were Monica, he would be allowing this moment to wash over him. He would focus on her eyes, her scent, her breathing. Just taking her in through all of his senses, and in doing so, he would be calm and steady. He would know exactly what to do next. With Phoebe, he feels lost and confused and he just wants to run away.

Their lips meet and he thinks to himself that this is not how a kiss feels. Not anymore. These lips aren't as inviting as Monica's, they don't feel as if they have been brushed with velvet. They don't feel warm and supple. They just are not her lips.

In this moment he realizes something that deep down, he has known ever since that night in London. She is the only woman he wants to kiss. Now and forever, Her lips, her body, her hands, her scent, her warmth; she is the only one he feels comfortable with anymore. She is the only one who can make him the man he is supposed to be, the man he has been ever since they started living on London time.

He needs whatever this is right now to stop. He needs the lips of the woman he loves, he needs the scent of the woman he loves, he need the embrace of the woman he loves. He needs Monica. The woman he loves.

He pushes Phoebe away, "OKAY!OKAY!OKAY!OKAY! FINE! YOU WIN! I can't have sex with you!"

He doesn't even know who asks him why, he just knows he has to tell anyone, he has to tell everyone, he has to tell the entire world. "Because I'm in love with Monica!"

Suddenly the buzzing subsides, the world comes into focus, he can breathe again. He hears doors opening all around him and he can see shocked faces appear from every corner but he doesn't care. He feels liberated. "Love her! That's right! I! LOVE! HER!" He sees Monica come closer as he can't control himself. Emphatically he declares once again for everyone to hear. "I! LOVE! HER!"

He faces her for what feels like the first time again and can see pure joy and love in every inch of her face. Everything else in the room goes away at that moment. His nervousness is gone, his concerns about who he is, how she feels, who knows, it is all gone. All he can see is her. All he ever wants to see from this moment on, is her.

He slowly approaches her, his eyes never leaving her face. As their eyes meet, he realizes these are the only eyes he ever wants to look into again. His hands touch her waist and he feels all those familiar, comfortable contours of her body. The only body he ever wants to feel again. He finds everything he has been wanting. He finds everything he needs.

He can feel her hands on his arms and he knows what he needs to do. As calmly and confidently as he has ever felt about anything in his entire life, he saves his last declaration for her and her alone. "I love you Monica."

He can swear he can see relief in her quick smile as she wraps her arms around his neck and he knows, he is finally whole. "I love you too, Chandler."


	16. Peer Pressure

**Peer Pressure**

Monica, using a wet cloth, vigorously wipes down the kitchen table in wide circular motions, even though she has already cleaned it. The entire apartment is already clean, but that hasn't stopped her from going over everything again; finding nearly imperceptible blemishes to focus her energy on and keep her mind off of the events that have occurred over the last two days. She cleans to stop herself from wondering what their first time together with all of their friends will be like since the big reveal. All morning, she kept playing out different scenarios in her head, each one worse than the last, and so, even though it is already clean, for the third time in less than an hour, she is wiping down the kitchen table.

Cleaning is a form of active meditation for her; when her mind is racing, tidying things up helps to calm her down. She can focus better on one thought at a time. A habit she had adopted a long time ago. It has come in handy through the years; whether she would be waiting for news on a job she interviewed for, or the day after a first date with someone she liked, or as in the case right now, wondering if her brother will tell her parents about her relationship with Chandler before she is ready to do that herself.

It has been a whirlwind couple of days, involving secrets being exposed, love being declared, and a brother becoming slightly unhinged and possibly emotionally scarred as he had witnessed, from his new apartment across the street, his own sister and his best friend, ripping each other's clothes off.

And now, everybody knows about Monica and Chandler, and although she expected everything to be different once this happened, surprisingly, not much is. She does admit, there is at least one large and rather significant change in their dynamic; her and Chandler have added "I love you" to their vocabulary. They must have already said it a thousand times since they said it the first time. Monica slows down the circular motion she is making with the towel and smiles for a moment as she thinks about those fantastic new words that roll so easily off their tongues. They may have lost to Phoebe and Rachel the other day, but in her opinion, they won something much more important.

As she daydreams again about that moment when they finally said "I love you" to each other, the door to her apartment opens abruptly, shocking her back into the here and now. She turns, expecting it to be Chandler, but instead, Joey enters. "Hey, Mon. Is anybody here?"

Monica walks over to the sink to wipe it down, also for the third time, and turns on the faucet to quickly rinse off her hands. She glances at Joey and shakes her head. "Just me. Everyone else is already downstairs. Chandler is stopping here first and then we were going to go down together and meet everyone. Aren't you coming?"

Joey pulls a chair out from the table and sits down. "Yeah, but I can't stay long. I'm actually taking this girl that I've been seeing for the last few days out to lunch."

Monica turns around and leans back, resting her elbows on kitchen counter, a playful look on her face. "Ooo, so are we finally going to get to meet her?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Joey gets up as quickly as he sat down. He nervously looks around the room. "I probably should go down there now."

Monica, sensing something is a little off with him puts her hand on his shoulder. "Joe, is everything okay?"

Joey, feigns confidence. "What? Me? Oh yeah. Never better!" His bravado fades and his tone becomes quiet and meek. "Well, actually, uh, I kind of wanted to talk to you."

Monica folds her arms and shrugs her shoulders a bit. "Me? Okay. What's up."

Joey takes a deep breath and looks down for a moment before making eye contact with her. "Well, you see, now that you and Chandler are actually really dating; and look, I think that's great. You guys make so much sense to me."

Monica smiles bashfully. "Yeah, I think so too."

Joey nods as a half-smile starts to form on his lips. "You know how he is right? I mean, you've been around, you've seen what he's been through."

Monica's brow wrinkles as she tries to figure out what Joey is trying to say. "In what way?"

"Well, he doesn't have a lot of luck. You know. With women."

Monica nods. "Oh, okay."

"I just want to make sure you do right by him. You know. Take good care of him. Try not to hurt him."

Monica grins and pulls her hands over her heart. "Aww Joey, that's so sweet that you're looking out for him." She always knew Chandler took care of Joey financially at times and he was an active supporter throughout all the highs and lows of his acting career. Chandler would read lines or help him pick headshots. Anything Joey needed, Chandler was normally right there to give it to him. This is the first time she is actually witnessing Joey trying to take care of Chandler. The older brother in him watching out for his best friend. She would be compelled to give the guy a big hug if she weren't also slightly insulted that she is the one he was trying to protect Chandler from. "Joe, I promise you, I'm not going to hurt him. I really love him."

Joey, his face expressing shy modesty, looks up and smiles. "Really?"

"Joe, I really do. I'm crazy about him."

Joe perks up and hugs her tightly, lifting her up from the floor. "I'm so happy for you guys."

Monica, struggling to get out a few words as she is swayed side-to-side in the overexuberance of his embrace. She finally catches her breath. "Okay, all right Joe, Leave some of me for the next guy."

Joey puts her back down, gesturing apologetically. "Oh, okay, I'm sorry. All right. I'll see you down there." He smiles at her once more before rushing out of the apartment and closing the door behind him.

* * *

Ross, Rachel and Phoebe are sitting quietly in their usual section of the dining room at Central Perk. Rachel is sipping at a cup of tea, seated on the couch, While Ross is reading the paper, perched on one of the high-top chairs near a small raised table. Phoebe, who is sitting next to Ross, was looking up at the ceiling with a contemplative stare. She then turns her gaze back toward her friends. "Do you think maybe it's because Monica hasn't had sex in a year?"

Ross folds the newspaper he was reading and slaps it down into his lap. "Phoebe. Come on. That's my sister."

Phoebe nods. "Oh, okay, sorry Ross. I meant; do you think it is because she hasn't taken a lover in a year?" She looks over at Ross to see if that was a more acceptable version of the same question.

Ross shakes his head emphatically. "Phoebe! That's not any better. That actually might be worse."

Rachel laughs and leans forward. "Oh, I don't know Pheebs. Now that I look back on these last few months. I have to say; I don't know if I have ever seen Monica this happy."

Ross lifts the newspaper back up and begins to unfold it. "You know Rach, you're right. I mean, I was so wrapped up in my own stuff, but come to think of it; she's been really un-Monica-like. When is the last time she yelled at any of you?"

The three of them look up reflectively while nodding.

"Well, I think it is great. You know. Two best friends. Finding each other like that. I mean, you could make a movie about it." Rachel sips from her mug again before putting it back down on the table in front of her.

Phoebe smirks. "You know. When I first met them, I thought they were already doing it."

Rachel laughs, "You know, for a second, I did too. Like maybe they had done it at some point in the past. I still wonder if they did. Before I moved in."

Ross, shudders a bit and responds in a quiet, even tone. "Again. My sister people."

Joey enters the coffee house and nods at his friends as he comes around the sofa and sits in one of the chairs next to it, opposite Ross and Phoebe. "Hey guys. What'cha talking about?"

Phoebe quickly waggles her eyebrows from across the table. "What do you think?"

Joey pauses for a moment and then nods. "You're wondering if I want Chinese food for lunch."

A puzzled look forms on Ross' face. He looks at Rachel and Phoebe incredulously. "Why would we be talking about that?"

"Well, because that's what I'm wondering about. Should I get Chinese food?" He looks over at Rachel and points his thumb in Ross' direction. "Jeez. This guy."

Ross shakes his head. "We're talking about Monica and Chandler."

Joey sits back in the chair to get comfortable. "Oh, yeah? That's good. So, anyway, what do you guys think?"

Rachel pats him on the thigh as she sits forward. "I think it's great. They're so close already. They've been friends for like a zillion years."

Joey, confused, raises his hands in disbelief. "No, about the Chinese food. Do you think that's what I should have for lunch? What is with everyone today?"

Rachel shakes her head and decides to ignore him. "Well, now that we know they have been together for months; have you guys noticed anything different about Chandler? You guys have been living with him this whole time. You must have seen something out of the ordinary with him."

Ross puts his paper down again and shakes his head. "You know. Come to think of it, yeah. He hasn't had any weird Chandler freak outs if that's what you mean. He's been, I don't know, maybe more mature?"

Joey, with an excited tone and a look of discovery on his face, points at Ross. "Ooo. I know what else is different. He buys a lot of condoms now. I mean, a lot. Like those one-hundred size packs."

Ross, shakes his head again. "Dude! That's my sister."

Joey, bunches up his shoulders as he were a turtle trying to hide in its shell. "Oh. Uh, well, now at least you know they're being safe. That should make you feel good."

Ross, puts his hand on his stomach and makes a face as if he were becoming ill. "That does not make me feel good. That makes me feel the opposite of good."

Phoebe takes a sip of her drink and nods, impressed by what Joey just told them. "One-hundred? Wow. Way to go Chandler."

Rachel laughs. "Way to go Monica."

Ross decides to hide behind the newspaper he has been struggling to read ever since the topic of his sister and Chandler having sex had come up. "You know, maybe I need to find some new people to hang out with."

Rachel flails her arms a bit, trying to get everyone to focus. "Come on guys. Does he seem happy?"

Ross looks over to her and nods. "Yeah. He does. I don't know if I've ever seen him like this before. And, the fact that he kept it from us." Ross turns to face Joey, "You know how he is. He can't even think about calling a girl after he gets her number without having an all-night session with one of us on exactly what he should say. I don't know how he kept it all bottled up, doing all of this on his own."

Joey nods and points at Ross. "You're right. He never asked me advice about anything. Well, there was this one time. But it was to find out if there was a specific kind of ointment to use when you get a rug burn on your knees."

Ross shakes his head, with a defeated look on his face. "Come one Joey! I'm right here! You have to know this by now! We have the same last name! Ross Geller! Monica Geller!"

Phoebe chuckles as she watches Ross and Joey gesture emphatically towards each other. "Well, good for them. They deserve to be happy. Not too happy though, or else that would be annoying. No one likes people who are too happy."

Ross looks out the window and lifts his chin as if to direct everyone's attention. "Oh, hey guys. Look. There they are now."

* * *

Chandler and Monica approach the entrance for Central Perk, hand-in-hand. He turns to look at her. "Okay, this is going to be the first time all six of us are going to be hanging out since everyone found out about us. You sure you're ready for this? They are probably going to ask a lot of questions."

Monica nods. "I'm sure. Are you going to be okay."

"Of course. What could they possibly say that will get to me?"

She looks down at their intertwined fingers. "This'll be the first time we do stuff like this in front of everyone."

Chandler smiles at her. "I know. No more sneaking around. I can even do this:" Chandler looks around the street and starts to speak loudly. "I'm going out with Monica Geller! She's my girlfriend! I love her!"

Monica ducks her head bashfully for a moment. "Well then, I can do this:" She begins to shout much louder than Chandler had. "I'm going out with Chandler Bing! I love Chandler Bing!"

From across the street a voice yells back, "This is New York! No one cares lady!" They turn to each other and shrug their shoulders, reluctantly nodding in agreement.

Chandler reaches for the door, but hesitates and turns to face Monica. "Wait, you know what else we can do now whenever we want?"

Monica looks up at him, slightly bemused. "No, what?"

Chandler leans in, a half-smile on his face. "This." He grabs her from behind the waist with one hand, pulling her close to him. As their bodies connect in his embrace, he uses his other hand to support her from the small of her back. He leans in, closes his eyes and begins to kiss her. Monica's hands slide up the back of his neck and dig into his hair as her eyes close. She whimpers slightly as she becomes overwhelmed by the passion of their kiss. She begins to lightly bite on his lower lip as he brings his hands up to her face.

* * *

Ross, still watching Monica and Chandler from inside the coffee house, twists his face, as if he were sucking on a lemon. "Oh I don't want to see that!"

Phoebe and Rachel turn to try and see what he was looking at outside, and once they observe their two friends sharing a kiss on the sidewalk, they both smile proudly. Phoebe then grabs at her mug. "Oh wow, Monica must really be in love. That's her sex face."

Ross and Rachel both whip their eyes towards her, and almost in unison, raise their voice and snap back. "What?"

Rachel huffs and shakes her head. "Phoebe. How do you know what Monica's sex face looks like?"

Phoebe smiles into her mug as she takes a sip. "Oh, I know what everyone's sex face looks like. Your sex face is the same face you make when you eat your favorite food. Here watch." She turns to Joey. "Joey. Imagine you are eating a meatball hero."

"Does it have cheese?"

Phoebe nods. "Cheese melted all over the place."

Joey closes his eyes and tilts his head to the side. He then becomes slack jawed as the top of his tongue slips out of his mouth. "ohhh, so good"

Phoebe smiles triumphantly. "See, sex face."

Ross shakes his head. "Phoebe, that's ridiculous."

"Oh, okay Mr. Scientist. How about you imagine you're eating that Thanksgiving leftover sandwich with the moist maker."

Ross' head tilts and his eyes go wide and he can barely keep his lips together, thinking of that delicious sandwich.

Rachel points at him excitedly. "Oooo! Oooo! That's it. That's his sex face! Wow Phoebe. That's amazing."

Ross begins to protest as he is shaken from his stupor. "That is not my sex face! This is my sex face." Ross attempt a seductive smile and raises one eyebrow. He undulates his head slightly and looks up and down at Rachel and Phoebe. '

Rachel scratches her chin lightly. "No, no, that's your 'I need to call the cops on this creepy guy' face."

Ross exhales with frustration. "Whatever. Maybe we should show everyone your sex face!"

Before Rachel can respond, Monica and Chandler walk into the coffee house and make their way over to the others. They both plop down onto the couch next to Rachel as Chandler puts his arm around Monica's neck and they interlock their fingers. Monica looks over to him and laughs as she buries her face in his neck. She then turns to Rachel. "Hey guys, what are you talking about."

Joey, looking confused, just offers up, "Sandwiches."

Phoebe shakes her head. "No. We were talking about sex faces."

Joey, then, with a look of discovery on his face, points in the air. "Oh, wait. We were talking about if I should get Chinese food for lunch."

Rachel scoffs at her two friends and then turns to face Monica. "No , we were talking about you guys."

Chandler laughs and Monica smirks. She looks at Joey and rolls her eyes and then looks back at Rachel. "Okay, well, let it all out then. I know you're dying inside."

Ross gets up. "I think I've had enough of this conversation. I'm going to get a refill."

Rachel leans forward and clasps her hands together excitedly. "Oh, okay. Well, when did you guys realize you were in love? Who initiated the first kiss? Was it romantic? Do you go on dates? Do you have any clothes over in his apartment? Have you told your parents? Have you guys talked about getting married?"

Monica narrows her eyes at Rachel and Chandler's expression becomes one of nervous bewilderment.

Ross returns and cuts Rachel's barrage of questions off as he begins to speak. "Hey, you know what I just realized, if you guys ever have kids…"


	17. Bing-a-Ling-a-Ring

**Bing-a-Ling-a-Ring**

"_Too afraid to be in a real relationship? Then don't be in one."_

Those words from Monica cut Chandler deep. It hadn't even been a week since everyone found out about the two of them and he felt as though he was already on the verge of losing everything that mattered to him in the entire world. As far as he was concerned, he only had himself to blame. He was the one who had the typical Chandler freak out. Blowing things out of proportion and allowing those sickly thoughts to enter his head after only hearing a few facetious comments from their friends.

If they could only go back to a few days ago when it was just the two of them. Back to their private, wonderful, secret relationship. Back to his comfort zone, with the real world held at arm's length. None of this would be happening right now. He is sure of it. They'd probably be up in one of their bedrooms right now, preparing for round two of some mind-blowing sex session. But then, if that were the case, and they were still sneaking around, he never would have heard those words. The words that he had no idea how much he needed to hear. The words that make him feel invincible. The words, that when they roll off her tongue, makes him feel like he has a life. _"I love you too Chandler." _He can hear those words even now, dancing on the wind, from her lips. So, he knows, it's too late to go back, and even if they could, he doesn't really want to. Unfortunately, that means they are in a real relationship, with meddling friends, and fights, and all the rules have changed on him just as he was getting a handle on the old ones.

"_Don't be in one." _After Monica dropped that hammer on him, he had to get away and clear his mind. Chandler grabbed his coat and took off from Central Perk without saying a word to his friends; leaving their pained grimaces, which worked as a metaphor for his relationship, behind him. He began walking, only stopping at a newsstand to purchase a pack of cigarettes. He lit one right away and allowed the comforting sting of nicotine fill his lungs, giving him all of those familiar tingles that he craves whenever he goes too long between indulgences in his worst vice. He wasn't sure where he was going. He didn't really care. He simply resigned himself to putting one foot in front of the other and headed east on 14th Street.

It wasn't until he reached 2nd Avenue and decided to turn north that he realized he was chain smoking. Lighting his next cigarette with the last one. He was so sure the high he was experiencing from them would help him figure out exactly how he was going to fix this, but they were failing him. Even as the flavor overtook his senses, he was still playing those last words from her in his mind. _"Don't be in one."_

He was prepared to admit defeat. He let his mind tell him that he finally did what he had been most afraid of ever since they got back from London; he ruined it. He ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him. He knew it was ruined because Monica, a day later, still didn't want to talk to him. He knew it was ruined, because he was Chandler Bing, and that's what he does. He ruins relationships.

When he hit 53rd Street, he made the decision to repair the damage he caused at all costs. He would go home and he would fix everything. He still didn't know how, but he knew he had to. He surprised himself with his conviction. Giving up always seemed so much easier. Falling back into his self-deprecating acceptance of failure was his default setting. Inserting foot in mouth was second nature. Yet, with Monica, it had become so important not to fall into his old habits that what he did today felt as foreign to him as it did familiar.

He didn't even know what got into him. Everything had been going great. Sure, there were a few bumps in the road. When his pride almost pushed her into the arms of some nurse-man. When he gloated about how much she enjoyed having sex with him that she turned him down. When, in Atlantic City, he talked to her like she was still just his friend, and not his girlfriend, and she stormed out of the room. In all those instances, pre-London Chandler Bing was fumbling through any crack he could find in this thing they had going on between them, causing near premature disaster, and ending it before it even began. Yet, as hard as he tried, the old Chandler Bing never got through. This new version of Chandler Bing, who against every instinct he ever had, walked back into Monica's apartment that fateful day, starting all of this in motion, would not let the old one wreck everything.

He feels luck playing a part in all of this as well. If it were any other woman, it would probably already be over. This was Monica Geller, and she wasn't going to let him ruin everything by being him. She gave him a chance to put whatever words together that he could think of, words he thought were nonsensical as they stumbled from his lips, yet they proved to be effective. That he was able to get her to look past his transgressions and actually smile at what he said was a testament to how incredible she was. When she finally clued him in to the fact that they were indeed, in a relationship, something clicked. The old Chandler Bing went into hibernation for what he thought would be forever, and this new guy, scratch that, this new man, appeared. Unfortunately, the minute it became complicated, original recipe Chandler Bing woke up and got his fingers stuck in everything, and he created a mess.

Chandler felt some burning in his lungs as the cold February air sliced into him. He looked up at the next street sign and he realized, upon seeing that he was already well into the seventies, that he had walked all the way to the Upper East Side. He decided to lean up against the wall of a nearby parking garage to rest and smoke one more cigarette.

As he fiddled with the now half-empty pack, pulling one out slowly, he stopped himself. Smoking a pack of cigarettes in a little over an hour is what the old Chandler Bing would do. Wallowing in self-pity is what the old Chandler Bing would do. He had to do the opposite of what he used to do if he were going to repair the fracture in his relationship with Monica. He decided to crumple the pack in his hand and he tossed it into a nearby garbage can as some sort of symbol of his rebirth. He then, spent a few minutes contemplating if any cigarettes had survived and how bad would it look if he tried to fish them out of the garbage pail.

"_A gift. That's what Ross does. An expensive, extravagant gift." _Chandler looked around and saw a jewelry store on the corner across the street and made his way over. Once he was buzzed through the door, a salesperson came up to him immediately asking him if he needed help, but he wasn't even sure of what he wanted to buy and he decided to look around first. He traced his finger along the glass, looking down at bracelets, necklaces, earrings; each more ornate and delicate looking than the last. He saw diamonds, emeralds, sapphires; gold, silver, platinum. He scanned the contents of each display case coming to the realization, that he doesn't really know Monica's tastes at all when it comes to jewelry. He was at a complete loss. _"Does she even wear jewelry?"_

The salesperson made his way around to Chandler again. "Sir, is there anything you would like to look at?"

Chandler, never taking his eyes off of the display case, begins to speak for the first time since he left Central Perk and is surprised by how raspy is voice sounds. A side effect from a too many cigarettes and a long walk on a cold evening. "Well, to be honest. I'm not even sure what I am looking for. Which one of these says 'I'm sorry for being an idiot' the most?"

"Well, sir. That depends on what she likes? We have some nice pendants over here by the rings." The salesman gestured for Chandler to follow him.

"_Pendants? Do women like those? Isn't that something a grandmother would wear?"_ He stops in front of the case and grimaces a little at the garish designs. The buzzer of the security door sounds off as another customer walks into the store. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, his skin feels as if it burning and his ears flinch as he hears a terrifying and familiar voice shriek in nasal tones.

"OH! MY! GAWD!"

Chandler turns his eyes up, "Oh sweet lord, why would you do this to me? Haven't I been through enough?"

The voice calls out again, loud and incredulous. "Chandler Bing?"

Chandler reluctantly turns around and shudders in disbelief. "Hello, Janice." He drags out the words as if by delaying uttering her name she would simply disappear. Yet there she stood, his own personal harbinger of doom. Rubbing salt in wounds she doesn't even know are there. Perfect, imperfect timing, as always.

"When did you get back from Yemen? What are you doing all the way uptown?" Her squeaky Queens accent directly clashing with the elegant beauty of the items on display in the store.

Chandler takes his hand and runs the palm down his face roughly. Stretching his skin and catching his lip and pulling it down. "Me? Oh well, I am, ah…."

As his voice trails off, Janice's eyes drop to the display in front of him and her jaw drops. "Are you buying someone an engagement ring?" She squeaks at a tone that he could swear would shatter glass.

Chandler turns around and looks down, wide eyed and desperate, and sees his way out of what may be an uncomfortable confrontation. His trusted foolproof answer to every conflict. He was going to lie. "Why, um, yes! Yes I am."

Janice, appearing deflated, allows a quiet. "Oh." To escape her lips as she brings her hands to heart.

"Well, it has been a year since I left, and I uh, met someone in Yemen and we came back together." Chandler approaches her, but still keeps some space between them as his tone softens. "So, that's why I didn't call you when I got back. I hope there's no hard feelings?"

Janice sniffles softly. "I guess I always thought that one day, it would be you and me."

Chandler moves closer, clearly touched by her disappointment, "Oh wow. Look, Janice…"

Janice begins to trill laughter while throwing her hands up and pointing at him. "I got you! I've moved on Chandler Bing. I just wanted to see your face!"

Chandler backs away, moving closer to the display case. "Yes. You got me. How funny." Agitated sarcasm dripping from every word.

Janice moves up next to him and begins to look at the rings in the case. "So, have you picked one out yet?"

Chandler looks behind him over his shoulder at the rings. "Well, I'm still looking."

"I can't believe it. Bing-a-ling is buying a ring!" She trills again, sending audible daggers through Chandler's brain as he winces.

A salesperson hands her a bag and she puts her hand on Chandler's shoulder. "Look, no yellow gold, okay?" Chandler raises an eyebrow as she turns to leave. "A ring? Bing buys a ring, I can't believe it!"

As she exits the store Chandler looks down again, now focusing on the rings and chuckles to himself. _"A ring. That's just crazy. Yeah! I'm going to buy a ring. I can't believe she fell for that. Well, wait, is it crazy? Monica thinks I have commitment issues. What's a bigger commitment than marriage?" _He looks around the store wildly. _"It makes perfect sense! I can show her how much I've changed and how important this relationship is to me. What did Ross and Joey say? Make a big gesture! What is bigger than this?"_

Chandler becomes almost feverish as he debates the idea of buying a ring in his head. He nods to himself a few times. "I'll do it!" He looks around the store, trying to make eye contact with the salesman as he taps fervently on this display glass, earning his a look of admonishment. "My good man! My good man! I'm here to buy a ring!"

* * *

Chandler and Ross stand between the front door and the security door of the jewelry store while they wait to be buzzed inside. Chandler turns to his friend, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. "Thanks again for coming down with me. They told me over the phone that they would only give me store credit for the ring."

Ross, in a serious tone, waves his hand emphatically. "Hey, I am the refund king! Just let me handle it. When I'm done they'll be begging to give you your money back!" Chandler raises an eyebrow suspiciously at Ross as the buzzer goes off and they enter the store.

They walk over towards one of the display units and look around for a salesperson. Ross, quietly turns to Chandler. "You know, now that we're alone for the first time since I found out about you and Monica, I've been wanting to let you know; I'm kind of bummed out you didn't tell me about you guys. I'm your best friend. I'm her brother."

Chandler looks over apologetically. "I know, I know. Look, we didn't want to hurt you. Just, after how everything went down with you and Rachel, we just didn't want to experience this as a group like you guys did. We needed to know what we were first before letting everyone in. I mean, hello, look at what happened after just one week of us out in the open." Chandler gestures around the store as Ross laughs quietly.

"Well, for what it is worth, I see it. You two. I see it. You guys are really good together."

"Really?"

Ross puts his hand on Chandler's shoulder reassuringly. "Really. Monica has been happier than I have ever seen her in a long time, and you, well except for this." Ross holds up the ring box and points to it. "You haven't gone all Chandler on us in a while."

Chandler smiles. "Thanks, man. That means a lot."

"And I can't imagine her being with a better guy. When we all first moved out into the city, and I was still married to Carol, you kept her company. You watched out for her. I'll never forget that."

Chandler looks down at the floor and draws a circle with his foot. "Thanks. We looked out for each other."

Finally, a salesperson appears. "Hello. How may I help you gentlemen?"

Ross slaps the ring box down on the counter, indignant confidence oozing out of his every pore. "Why yes you can help us! My friend here bought this ring two days ago. Two! And he says you'll only give him store credit! Well, that is unacceptable. Unacceptable! We demand a full refund!" He turns to Chandler and offers a nod as he gives off a low, cocky chuckle.

"I'm afraid that goes against store policy sir. We can only offer store credit."

Ross, looks at the salesperson, then back down at the ring box, then back at Chandler. "Sorry dude, I did the best I can." He shoves the box into Chandler's hand. "They'll only give you store credit."

Chandler rolls his eyes as he takes to box and places it on the counter. "Wow. I'm glad you came down here with me mister refund king." He looks around the store, shaking his head.

Ross starts to check out some of the other items on display. "So, what are you going to do? Maybe a new watch?"

Chandler peeks over at the watches on display in front of Ross. "I don't know. Maybe." He looks at his bare wrist where his old watch used to be.

"Maybe you can buy something else for Monica." Ross starts to look at the earrings in the case adjacent to the watches.

"That's a great idea! Can you help pick something out? You know what she likes. I can give them to her tomorrow night. I have a whole date planned out. Sort of a surprise. Make up for this." He holds the ring box up again and gestures at it.

"You want me to pick out earrings for my sister, for you?" Ross shrugs his shoulders. "Okay."


	18. First Date in the Real World

**First Date in the Real World**

Monica had just finished taking an especially long and luxuriant bath. After drying off and fixing her still wet hair into a loose ponytail, she decided, since she was feeling very relaxed, to lounge for a bit in her apartment. She pulled her robe closed as she exited the bathroom and practically glided into her bedroom, riding high on endorphins. Once there she dressed in a soft cotton tank top and a pair of comfy pajama shorts. She slid on a pair of fuzzy socks that she took from the top drawer of her dresser, put her robe back on and made her way into the living room.

She finally had three consecutive days off for the first time since she went to London for her brother's ill-fated wedding and she was going to take full advantage of them. She made sure to run as many errands as she could the previous morning before work so she could take time today to unwind and relieve some stress. She positioned herself on the end of the couch with her legs underneath her, and began to read a magazine she took from the coffee table, sipping at some tea that Rachel had made for them.

Ross was visiting, something he did with much more regularity than he ever had before, especially when he had his own apartment to call home. It seems though he prefers to spend time here at Monica and Rachel's, since hanging around a building where most of the other tenants think you're a jerk, isn't very much fun.

Rachel, who looked ready to burst, bounded into the living room from the kitchen after grabbing a cup of tea and plopped herself down onto the big comfy chair. She threw her hands up emphatically and began to whine. "Monica! Come on! You haven't told me anything about you two yet!" She exhaled out loudly as an exaggerated sign of her frustration.

Monica chuckled and shook her head. Her eyes never leaving the magazine she was skimming. "Rach. You've been grilling me for days. What else could there possibly be that I haven't told you or Phoebe already?"

Rachel turns to Ross, looking for an accessory in her pursuit for more information. "Ross!" She said his name as if it were a protest. "Isn't there anything you want to know?"

Ross looks away from the television to face her and rolls his eyes. "Do I want to hear about my sisters sex life? No Rachel, I do not."

Rachel throws her hands up in theatrical exasperation again. "You two are no fun!"

Before she can complain any further, the three of them become distracted from their conversation when they hear the front door to the apartment swing open. Chandler bounds into the room, his excitement almost electrifying. He greets Ross with a nod and lets out a terse, "Hey Rach" as he swings around the couch to face Monica. He stares at her for a brief moment. Her skin supple from the hot bath she had just taken. "You look amazing. I've never seen a more beautiful woman this early in the day."

Monica giggles at his overexuberance. "Chandler, I'm still in my robe."

"Don't care; you look radiant!" He leans over to kiss her and Rachel smiles at them affectionately.

"Oh, you guys are so cute." Rachel then sharply turns to Ross; her smile fades and her face becomes full of indignation. "How come when we were dating, you never told me how good I looked when I was wearing a robe?"

Ross drops his hands into his lap and shakes his head. "What?"

Monica laughs again, smiling widely. Chandler takes her hand in his. "I need you to go out with me tonight. I want to take you on a real date. Our first real date. What do you say?"

Monica furrows her brow, her confused expression only betrayed by a slight half-smile. "What do you mean. We've been on dates."

Chandler sits down on the coffee table across from her. "Not really. Not on a real date. One where you can get dressed up here in your apartment. Where everyone knows you are going out. No little white lies or hiding. I can pick you up here in front of everyone and we don't have to sneak around. A real world, no holds barred, first date."

Monica turns her eyes down and smiles bashfully. She looks over at Rachel and then to Ross quickly, as if looking to gauge their reaction. She feels almost slightly uncomfortable. Still not used to having what has been such a private part of her life, now on display for everyone to see, and judge.

Rachel gives off a sweet moan as if taken aback again by the tender moment. She turns to Ross once more, her eyes narrow scornfully. "Why didn't you ever take me out on a second first date?"

Ross' opens his mouth slightly in shock. "Rachel! There is no such thing as a second first date! That doesn't even make sense!"

Rachel stares at him smugly and gestures towards Monica and Chandler. "Well, what do you call that! They are going on a second first date!"

Ross returns his attention to the television and shakes his head. "I hate this. Not only do people talk about my little sister having sex, but now I am getting in trouble for a relationship that I haven't been in for almost two years!" His voice rising to an agonized crescendo by the time he reaches the end of his lament.

Monica purses her lips and waves him off, returning her focus to Chandler. "Well, how do I dress for this date tonight?"

Chandler stiffens up a bit and looks off to the side. "Uh, well, dressy casual. I'm not sure. We are going to see a show and then dinner. How would you dress for that?"

Monica tilts her head and raises her eyebrows, clearly already impressed with him. "What show are we seeing?"

Chandler starts to hum "Willkommen". The three friends turn to look at him, their faces expressing sheer bewilderment. "Oh, come on. Doesn't everyone know this?" He starts to hum again, gesturing with his hands as if pleading with them to name the tune. "I can't believe this." He begins to sing, slightly off key and stiff with self-consciousness. "_Willkommen! And bienvenue! Welcome! I'm cabaret, au cabaret, to cabaret!"_ Ross starts to laugh as Rachel tries to stifle her own outburst with a smile. Chandler, looking at them incredulously finally blurts out "Cabaret! We're going to see cabaret! Don't you guys remember the movie? It was on all the time when I was a kid. My father used to play the record constantly. I don't remember that much about the story, but I still know all the songs."

Ross shakes his head. "No Chandler. My dad didn't make me watch musicals with Liza Minelli. He also didn't dress like Liza Minelli."

Chandler closes his eyes and shakes his head. Monica shoots her brother a furious look and puts her arms around Chandler protectively. "Don't listen to him. This is the same guy who begged my mother to buy him a Bionic Woman action figure and threw a fit when she gave him Steve Austin instead." She looks back at Chandler. "I think it's sweet, but how did you get tickets so fast?"

"Well, my boss gets tickets all the time to events in the city through corporate. I guess to entertain vendors. Whenever there are extra tickets that he doesn't use, we can reimburse the company for them and take them ourselves. They're normally very good seats so we should be really close to the stage. I'll come get you here at six. Sound good?"

Monica shoots one more glare at her brother and then turns to face Chandler, smiling at him sweetly. "That sounds great. I would love to go on a real first date with you." They share a quick kiss. "Oh, I have to find something to wear!" Monica shoots up from her seat and begins to rock back-and-forth on the balls of her feet, awash in excitement.

Rachel springs up as well. "Oooo! I'll help you pick something out!" The two friends clasp their hands together and scurry over to Monica's bedroom, closing the door behind them.

* * *

Chandler steps up to the door of apartment 20 and takes a deep breath. He is surprised by the slight nervous energy he feels. Tingles running up and down his spine and through the tips of his fingers. He tugs at his tie lightly, wondering if he should have skipped wearing a suit and tried to appear more casual. He grips the small clutch of flowers he decided to purchase at the last minute upon Joey's insistence. _"Dude. You always bring flowers. If you want to treat this like a real date you gotta bring flowers!" _Replaying his roommates' words in his head helps to settle him down as he turns the knob and enters the apartment.

"Damn! I meant to knock!" He goes to turn around to walk out but hears footsteps gingerly collecting behind him which catches his attention.

"Are those for me?" He looks back towards the living room as Monica approaches him. She is wearing a cobalt blue dress that hugs her every curve. Her heels clacking on the floor as she approaches him. Chandler freezes, unable to answer and just pushes the flowers in her direction wordlessly. "Well, I guess that means you like my dress. You look very handsome yourself." She runs her finger lightly along his jawline and pulls him towards her for a kiss.

Chandler glances down at himself for a moment. Dark blue dress pants and matching jacket. White shirt and a red and grey striped tie. He smirks a bit, "I doubt anyone will even know I'm there. All eyes are going to be on you."

Monica takes the flowers from Chandler and places them in the sink. "Thank you for these, they're very pretty. I'll get a vase for them later." She turns and presses herself into him, running her hands down his chest and she breaths him in. "Mmmm. You smell good too. You're really are taking this seriously."

"Mon. If you keep touching me like this, we aren't going to go anywhere." She laughs and kisses him on the cheek. Chandler's eyes scan every inch of her, his mouth opens slightly as he licks his lips, his throat feeling dry. "I can't get over this dress. I am the luckiest guy in the whole world. I can't believe I get to go out with you. Why is that again?"

Monica, her face practically glowing from the attention, smiles at him as her eyes twinkle. "Well, because I love you. That's why."

Chandler clears his throat. "Do you know the name of that guy who thought you were Ross' mom? I want to send him a thank you note."

Monica exhales a short laugh as she takes his hand. "Okay Mr. lucky guy. Let's get going so we aren't late to the show."

* * *

Once they find their seats, Monica takes off her jacket but pulls it over her shoulders to stay warm in the cool theater. Chandler tugs at his tie slightly to let some air into his collar. He hands her the playbill to look over. She traces her fingers across the pages as she reads. "Is this play in English? I think I remember seeing a commercial for it. These costumes look familiar."

"What? Yeah. I mean, some songs have, I guess French or German? I'm not sure really. I just remember the words from the crazy amount of times I heard this playing in the background when I was a kid. I don't even know what this is about. I guess a dance party or something?"

Monica, still looking down at the playbill reaches her free hand over to him and they interlock their fingers. "Well, it sure has a lot of songs." As if on cue the house lights go down and the din of the audience dissipates, leaving mostly silence in the darkened theater until the first few bars of the opening song begin to play. As the actor slinks around the stage, singing seductively, Monica becomes enthralled. She only catches every other word or so, but she is completely mesmerized by the performance.

Chandler, very subtly bobbing his head to the music throughout the play, has his eyes transfixed on her almost the entire time. He smiles as her face lights up when a dance number thrills her. Her eyes shimmer in the dark room and her chin almost quivers during the more tense and dramatic scenes. He watches her, marveling at how engrossed she has become in the play. The only time their hands separate is to share in the applause with the rest of the audience every time a song concludes. He leans over and kisses her on the cheek and she turns her eyes towards him for a moment, her lips curl up on one side. "You should be watching this you know. It is really good. Some of these songs are so beautiful."

"What I am looking at is pretty beautiful too. I have the best seat in the house. I feel really special right now." She turns to look at him, slightly confused. "I'm the only one here in this entire building who gets to watch you." Monica raises his hand up to her mouth and kisses him on the knuckles as she smiles bashfully. Her eyes, shining as the lights from the stage bounce off them. She leans into him, resting her head on his arm as they watch the rest of the play.

* * *

As the waiter finishes pouring their wine, Monica reaches across the table to grab Chandler's hand. "Thank you for tonight. I haven't seen a show in such a long time. It was nice to get all dressed up. I can't remember the last time someone took me out like this." Her nose crinkles a bit as she lets yet another smile spread widely across her lips. "I have to say; I am surprised you liked the play."

Chandler looks down at his wine glass and picks it up with his free hand. "Well, I mostly just like the music. I guess I grew up with a lot of Broadway soundtracks always playing in the house. Or at least, always playing when my dad was around. But you're right. There was a bit too much androgyny for me. Probably why my dad liked the movie so much."

Monica laughs. "Well, I thought that Cumming guy was pretty hot."

"Really?"

Monica smiles, having fun edging him on in his discomfort. "Oh yeah. Androgyny can be pretty hot. Look at David Bowie."

Chandler sips at his wine. "Maybe we don't talk about guys you find hot while you're having dinner with your boyfriend."

"But what if I find my boyfriend hot too. Can I talk about that?"

"Sure. As long as you don't find him androgynous."

"Oh, don't be such a guy about it. I love that you like things like the music to this show. Embracing your feminine side is very sexy." She runs her finger up and down his arm as she leans closer to him from across the small table they are sharing.

"If singing Broadway songs gets you to sleep with me, then you can call me whatever you want. Just maybe, don't tell the guys about it."

Monica rolls her eyes, and disentangles her fingers from his so she can pick up her wine glass and take a sip.

Chandler hits himself in the forehead with the base of his palm. "Oh, wait. I also got you something to make up for the other day when I, well, you know, with the ring. You were there. You know what happened. Let's not talk about it." Chandler reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small, gift-wrapped box. He slides it across the table towards her.

"You have done enough. Flowers, a show, dinner. You were already getting into my pants. You don't need to try this hard anymore." She opens the box and finds two sparkling diamond earrings inside. "Oh, wow, these are really beautiful. I hope you didn't spend too much. Well, I hope you didn't spend too little either." Monica snorts lightly at her own joke. "You know, I like this Chandler. I get to have him all to myself. I get to see you vulnerable. Not in a weak way. You have this happy kind of vulnerability. Like your defenses are down. You aren't as sarcastic either, which is a plus."

"Well, the night is still young."

Monica shakes her head and huffs, pretending to be put off. "Why do you make so many jokes?"

"Well, being the funny guy works for me. My jokes are why people like me."

Monica wrinkles her brow. "Is that the message you've been getting from us?"

Chandler offers up sarcastic laughter. "Making jokes is why everyone likes me Nobody really ever liked the real me. My parents sure didn't."

"Well I do."

Chandler scoffs. "No, you don't. This guy, with the sarcasm. That's the guy you all know and love."

Monica shakes her head. "Yes, I do. I've seen the other guy who exposes his soft underbelly. I've seen you almost every day for over seven years and I've seen you insecure and I've seen you be a jerk who can get mean sometimes. I'm sorry to break this to you, but now that I've seen relationship Chandler, I know every version of you and I love you. The best thing about it is that I get this whole other part of you. The sweet part who wants to impress his girlfriend even though he doesn't have to. The part of you that is smiling sincerely all the time and happy and sentimental. I love you Chandler; all of you."

Chandler looks down sheepishly. "I pinch myself constantly about that. I don't get it."

"That's because you don't let yourself see you the way I do. You're the guy who speaks softly to me while we lay in bed. The guy who secretly helps his friends out with money so they don't feel bad. The guy who always made sure I got home safely. Chandler, the real you is all of these really great things. And if people couldn't see that before, well then, that's on them."

Chandler looks up, his face still with a half-smile as he makes eye contact. "I love you. I don't know how you were available for so long or how I got this lucky."

"Well, it isn't all luck. You are pretty good at this boyfriend stuff."

Chandler takes her hand and squeezes it gently. "I guess it comes easy. I think of you and how to make you smile. Not only because I know it means you're happy, but I get this rush knowing I can do that. Knowing I can make your nose crinkle up because you're smiling so wide. I know keeping this a secret probably helped us get to where we are, but now that we aren't hiding anymore, I'm so mad at all the time we wasted where I couldn't just be your boyfriend all the time. That I couldn't just kiss you and hold you whenever I wanted to. I know that we were worried about what would happen to the group if we didn't work out, but you were so worth that risk."

Monica looks back down, her cheeks flush as the flickering of the candle on the table bounces across her face. "That's maybe the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." She composes herself for a moment, trying to get her emotions under control. "So, I guess this means no more freak outs?"

Chandler lets out a low chuckle. "I can't promise that. But I will say, if I do freak out, I'll be running in the opposite direction than I used to."

"What do you mean?"

Chandler looks around the table, trying to focus on some random object as he tries to cope with how open he has been during this entire discussion. "You saw what I did when I panicked. I bought a ring! I just think that this relationship is so important, that if I am running. It won't be away from it, but towards it."

"That's good. Because if you were to try to run away, I'd probably chase after you."

* * *

From the moment they entered apartment 19 they began kissing. Neither one reaching for the lights. Their touches were tender, unrushed. There was no sense of urgency in their passion. It was gentle, affectionate. Chandler finally pulls back and looks at Monica hungrily, his eyes now filled with desire. "So, you want to move this into the bedroom?"

Monica closes her eyes and makes a slightly embarrassed face. She slowly shakes her head. "I don't know. I actually don't feel so good."

Chandler steps further into his apartment, pulling her with him by the waist. "Oh no. Was it the food or the wine? Do you need me to run out and get you something?"

She reluctantly shakes her head. "No, no. I'm not sick. I'm okay, I just don't feel up to it tonight."

Chandler, looking slightly dejected, slides his hands from her and puts them on his hips. "Oh. Okay. Well why not get changed and we can go to bed anyway."

Monica steps back towards the kitchen. "I was thinking I would go back to my apartment tonight."

Chandler shrugs his shoulders and nods. "Okay, I'll come with you then."

Monica looks at him nervously and starts to stammer a bit. "Oh, uh, well, maybe…"

"Look, Mon. I just don't want to go to bed without you anymore. Even if you're sick. I'm sorry. Is that too much? I know I can come on too strong. I probably shouldn't have said that." Chandler suddenly becomes tense as he rubs the back of his neck with his hand.

Monica takes a deep breath. "No, Chandler. No. That's not it."

"I just know that I scared the other girls away by doing too much too fast. I'm sorry. Did I do something wrong?"

"Oh honey no. Chandler. That's exactly what I want from you. I don't want a boyfriend who's never around and I'm stuck watering his plants, or someone who lives across town where we go three days without seeing each other. I want this." She gestures at the space between them. "I want you all the time, near me, available. I want you to come on strong and I don't want to go to sleep without you anymore either. It's just, well, I kind of got my...you know…" Monica starts to nod her head at him, trying to get her point across non-verbally.

Chandler's eyes widen as he surprises himself for how quickly he is picking up on what Monica was trying to tell him. "Ohhhh! Oh. Well, uh, so what. We can still do stuff if you want to."

Monica makes a face and shakes her head. "I'm not really feeling very sexy at the moment."

"Well, you look sexy." Monica shoots him an impatient glare. "But look. We don't have to do anything, okay. I just want to be with you. How about you put on some comfortable pajamas and bring over some sweats for tomorrow and we can just hang out here all day? Just relax and take it easy."

Monica tilts her head, raising her eyebrows in slight surprise. "Really? It doesn't bother you? I was normally able to avoid you during this time of the month when we were hiding from everyone else. It was pretty easy not to have a conversation about it."

"Well, we're living in the real world now, right? And periods are part of the real world. I don't mind if you don't. If you aren't comfortable, then I understand."

Monica leans back into him for one more long kiss. "No, I'd like that. Let me go change." Once Monica exits the apartment, Chandler stands around for a few minutes reflecting on the events of the evening and wondering why he wasn't uncomfortable talking about Monica's period. He shudders a bit as he thinks more on it and walks into his room. He pulls out a pair of pajama bottoms and flips a few shirts around in his drawer until he settles on a long sleeve grey shirt. He reaches over to the end table by his bed and grabs a pen and the folded-up newspaper lying there. He opens it up to the crossword puzzle and lays it down on the table in the living room. He then settles down into his Barcalounger and waits for Monica to return, still trying to get a handle on everything they had talked about this evening.

Monica finally walks in, flashes a smile at Chandler and places two wine glasses down onto the card table near his chair. He looks at her for a moment and realizes she is wearing the top that matches his bottoms. "Hey, I was just looking for those."

Monica turns to him and squints her eyes as she places a pair of sweatpants on the table next to the glasses and pours some wine out for them to drink. "Oh, yeah, I may have some of your shirts and pajama tops at my place. I would wear them sometimes whenever we couldn't spend the night together."

"Really? Why? I mean, you look very cute in my clothes, so I am not complaining."

Monica smiles at him as she walks over and sits down on his lap. "Well, they kind of have your smell on them. It made me feel like you were there even when you weren't."

"Really? You like my smell?"

She starts to tug on the fabric of his shirt. "When you're clean I do."

"From now on, we make sure to go to sleep together all the time so you don't feel like you're missing me and my smell. But keep the shirts. I'm not kidding. That's really hot." Monica laughs and plants another kiss on his lips as she reaches across for her wine glass. "Why are you wearing jeans though? Are you going to sleep in those?"

"Well, they tend to give me the most, um, security and they look better than my sweats."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know. In case it gets…uh...heavy? I can't believe we're talking about this. Anyway, jeans tend to offer a little more protection from leaking. I have those really ugly, bulky sweat pants for later when we go to sleep."

It takes Chandler a few moments to understand everything Monica is saying, and he struggles with all of his self-control not to make a face that he realizes might make her feel self-conscious, even though he is a little uncomfortable. "Look. We're in this, together. Right? And now everyone knows and we are out in the open and it's real. So, we shouldn't hold stuff back." He holds her hand and plays with her fingers for a bit. "I won't lie. It's kind of scary to be out in the real world."

Monica lifts his chin so he can look up at her. "I'm a little scared too. Maybe we can be scared together." She leans into him for another kiss, but they both sense that this kiss feels different than many of the others they have shared over these last five months. It doesn't feel like the innumerable number of passionate kisses they have shared, hungry and wanting, that normally led to sex. It also didn't feel like a casual, quick peck they would use as a greeting or in a fleeting moment alone before someone was able to catch them in the act. This kiss felt new, and warm. This kiss felt like comfort and security. This kiss felt like a promise. This kiss felt like love.

* * *

A/N – This is the end of this part of their story. I always felt like breaking up the relationship into different "Arcs" made sense, and after the apology proposal, their relationship feels different. Chandler really doesn't revert back to the panicky guy who ran out to buy a ring until the wedding. Now, the two of them are a real couple, no more hiding.

Soon enough I will start the next part of the series, once I figure some things out. I will also be updating the pre-mondler story and the post-series story more frequently. I just saw the light at the end of this tunnel and wanted to close it out.

Thanks to everyone who took time to read this and especially to those who took the time to review. I had no idea how much I liked reading reviews until about half-way through this. So, I really appreciate it. For those of you who haven't reviewed, what can I say but "you're on my list!" ;)

Thanks again!


End file.
